11/14/14 — West Rim, Grand Canyon

I feel you
Across the chasm 
Dirt trampled where you walked
Steady patriarch
And father figure
Every bit the man 
I wasn’t but 
Ever still the model 
I could be;
Eight children and 
World wars,
Paris and New York,
Card games and cucumbers,
Italian crooners;
Unflinching in the face of
Lost hub caps, 
Your yellow convertible machismo,
Grocery aisle flirtations,
cancer on my 
Single-candled birthday
Or a holiday in the hospital 
decades later
And Thanks
For Giving 
Me and her and all of us
A way across.