My Father died at 63
I’m now 75
I remember the day
I turned 63
Thinking I would finally know
What he knew
Be able to feel what he felt
See what he saw
And to be who he was
But I wasn’t a decorated
World War 2 Marine
The last of his platoon
To survive
The Solomon Islands the graveyard
Of most of his friends
He died on a Thursday
But we were estranged
‘Another woman who was not my Mom’
Looking back I wonder
What could I have changed
What words would I have used
To say to him …
(To Edward F. Behm U.S.M.C.: March, 2024)