The happy nest
inspires; expires.
Chirping papa
sends his regards
with memories -
flying solo,
of his marriage;
and the mundane -
the bills and chores.
Listening aids
one left behind.
I incline to
get an earful.
I learn the ropes.
I see him smile.
Mourning’s over.
Gets on with life.
He’d not agree,
but neither do
honeymooners
admit when it’s
over and they
settle into
the married life.
My dad’s routine
of flourishing -
with martinis
grateful for the
olives; I loves.
He admits luck
with his children
who daily care
and listen to
his sapience.
5/5/2023
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