In the kitchen today

My father and I
sit together in silence
eating lunch at the same table
like strangers in a restaurant.
I watch my young white fingers
grasp the spoon gently
and bring it to my mouth.
While I see his,
out of the corner of my eye,
sausage fingers
permanently strained dark from earth
grip the spoon like a beast
made to live in a human's world.
People always say we're so alike
but we've never understood each other.