If I could give to you your father whole,
but I can not give to you your father whole,
he would be free of the demons that made him
eat straight from jelly jars then
turned him into a poltergeist
shuffling through the hallways at midnight.
He would be free of the strokes, tics, and tremors
that now reside as unwelcome guests
disregarding the hour.
I would give him to you
firm and familiar like the sinewy
muscles in your arms heavy
with the wisdom gained
by a lifetime spent loving one woman,
the small triumphs,
the shifting joys.
Each memory recalled of a first-
smile, step, word, kiss would be a black strand
on his head till he stood before you
a lush young man, a reflection in the mirror
shining with joy whispering
You are the common ground now son,
you are my ladder
A blessing that one day you will give
to your own son. You would not
fear the road ahead, you would not
fear words like Alzheimer’s, or cancer
or any other dark god disguised
in medical terms.
You would not shield your eyes
as he fades from view
flashing over the horizon.

Continue the series:

Flashing over the Horizon.

by you
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