Dad sent me a message
reminding me that it was today
and suggesting a prayer.
He knows me so little-
my faith in god a relic of my past,
like the furniture I left behind
when I moved out of his house.
My faith in him is a more recent loss
but no less damaging.
So, I’m not sending a prayer-
I’m remembering you the way I like to-
through poetry.
And if that should fail me,
I will mention the beauty of the light
though the trees
or the bright endless blue sky.
I wish you could be here to see it.
I wish you could have seen it before you died.
I would have liked to see it with you.
blue sky infinite 