you
once wore cut-offs and ate plums
on
Jones beach mid-august
with
the sun at your back
and
in mid-winter with those
blue
boots and green gloves
you
shoveled piles of snow
sporting
a seasoned beard
but
after the thaw
you’d
show me how to’s
with
my plastic shovel and bucket
and
your tools
in
the cool wood and cement smell
of
the shed
with
it’s cobwebs and sawdust.
yes,
i think i
remember you now
with
your cowboy boots and silver watch
that
would flip back and forth
between
my child fingers
which
also, on occasion,
would
stretch out the holes in your
worked
hard, worn out tee-shirts
[
stopped only of course
by
a strong ‘quit!’
and
a smile
and
the knowledge that you loved me.]
short
and to the point
your
feelings were clear
you
never made a fuss of things
even
up to the end
as
i prayed over your shallow body
searching
for a renewed faith
“I‘m
dying” you told me
and
still i never doubted you
and
i remember you still with regrets
for
things never done
plans
unfulfilled
memories
never had that could have been
should
have been.
i
should have let my father read my heart’s cries
or
sang him the rhythm of my furies,
my
worries, my loves and passions
but
i know that he knows
and
in the end it’s never too late
and
i’ll never stop loving him
Daddy,
you,
with your blue eyes
reflected
in the mirror before me.
========== RedWillow ==========