Missing Fathers
My brother called to run by me
Some thoughts about our dad,
To see if mine would sync with
Certain memories he had.
He focused on a conversation
When, with lots to drink,
Our dad talked war, a topic
From which he’d most often shrink.
My recollection wasn’t clear,
Although it rang a bell
But my bro remembered details
That my father’d rarely tell:
Being trapped inside a foxhole
When a sudden sneak attack
Spared my dad but all his fellow troops
Would not be coming back.
The remainder of today I spent
With spouse and kids and grands
For a Fathers’ Day that every lucky
Parent understands.
But inside my head I thought about
My father and the war
And I wished he had lived long enough
To want to tell me more.
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