Monday, September 14, 2015

In memory of my father; 5 years later

Five years ago today, on the Feast of the Holy Cross, my father died. Here is a photo of him in 2002 doing what he loved most—metal detecting. He is triumphantly holding an 1892 silver dollar he had just found. I sure do miss him, and is absence in my life is an ache that just does not seem to end. Here also is a poem from my book, That Word (2014), which hopefully says in a better way anything I could say otherwise:


Take from him
whatever stains
even Communion

and devotion
can’t undo.
And let him

rise up—
if not today
one day soon—

from the ashes
we placed
so carefully into

the dark recess
of the earth
and left there

where the rain’s soaking
and the snow’s run-off
and the heat of high noon

cannot reach him
Let him rise up

from here
more beautiful
than he is

in those dreams
from which I myself
rise and stumble

toward a
slightly overcast

From That Word

Copyright © 2014 published by North Star Press

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