Happy Fathers Day I type
while looking at cards and candy and ties
and feeling the same as when I look at math problems.
I know other people understand them
but it won’t crystallize,
won’t firm up enough for me to grasp.
I don’t know father…
I know was
and I know other
and I know step
but there is nothing to bring a tear up, to share.
No baseball tossing
no always welcome in his workshop
no special wedding dance.
Sprung from the grass or brought by a stork I thought when I was little
accepting the strangeness, my seeming oddness,
as small ones do…
Nonsense I was abruptly told,
a speeding car removed one of the main characters
before my words were formed.
The memories I can share and the times I do remember
spoon fed to me and changeable with each novel I read,
like one of those drawings that you tilt to make the wings fly.
Happy fathers day…
I may as well type happy calculus
or happy hadron collider
or happy cryptid.
I do wonder if I have filled in a blank space?
Is there an overgrown pocket of weeds that moved in unchecked?
Was there supposed to be a fountain there?
Was there a mosaic eroded by the scraping of feet and the constant sanding of the wind.
Have I mixed in blues or purples and spackled it thickly on?
I will never know.
So I say Happy Fathers Day
and I extend my warmest wishes
and hope that you will understand
what I cannot.