What Remains

Guarding against close scrutiny
As morning turns to day,
A thing that my eyes cannot see
Since he sent us away.
Take a snapshot, that's all I need,
For memories likely mislead.
Take a snapshot!
Take a snapshot--
A thousand words too much to read.

Guarding against close scrutiny,
Hiding imperfection,
Masking emotions brutally
From any inspection,
My father's beard of bushy hair--
Young men wish theirs could grow so fair--
My father's beard,
My father's beard,
I seem to see it everywhere.

Guarding against close scrutiny
Whatever lies beneath,
Rebuffing with impunity
An eye for the discreet.
He fades away in picture frames,
Yet one thing still my mind retains:
He fades away,
He fades away...
His face is gone-- the beard remains.