Tag Archives: fatherhood

Eulogy for your fathers

Eulogy for your fathers

When the time comes, you will
Not need the words. Whether

He was someone whose love
Shone softly like a lamp on a piano

Or like the highbeams of a car
Arriving just in time. Whether his deeds

Went unnoticed by anyone but you,
Whether he cared for nobody but you,

Defended you until death or until
your first step into your own perilous

Maturity, I have the words for you.
Tell the others to remember how

From a man he grew into a father and that
Though from father he fell into a featureless

Future, dying as a shadow of himself
that he first was someone light itself

Had to bend around. Tell them you
Don’t need the words. You had a father.

The last night of the fall of my fifty-fifth year

The last night of the fall of my fifty-fifth year

Winter comes in
Tomorrow, late,

Hardly anyone will stay
Awake for it. TV in

Front of an empty couch.
Fatherless months

Asserting order like a rake
Across dirt. It’s a season

I’m finally ready for.
Though every brilliant flick

Of survival by the wren on
The empty feeder mocks

My readiness. And in the
Quick corner of its eye

For the briefest wingbeat
Spring is looking at me.

Early August Near Midnight

Taken with NightCap Pro

Early August Near Midnight

At the edge of the house I cannot afford,
Old window open, conscience thin

Black screen barely a mesh between
Two environments. One built to keep

The other out, the other which does not
acknowledge even itself. Behind every

Wall upstairs the cricketsong of heartbeats.
The family’s dreams swirl around me:

These are fierce hunters. Bills and debts
Look for places to hide but the dark wins.

I know I will have to sleep, awake, pay
A daydream down. But tonight

I will enjoy their protection, my fears
Fleeing from the dreamy claws of trust.