Back West

A poem about my dad

Back West

 

My father was a rolling stone

Who sunk down in the sea

He loved the banjo and the saxophone

And John F. Kennedy

He fished on boats in Ocracoke

And from streams in Albany

He liked cigarettes and artichokes

And the Kentucky derby

 

I lost him beneath the water

I hope he's now above

Over the land, watching his daughter

Releasing him with love

 

He liked his diners dimly lit

And coffee at midnight

He liked butter-beaten grits

And the hum of motel lights

His wallet smelled of earthy leather

His bags, old and distressed

We were birds of a feather

And he flew back west

 

Life is fierce and life is frail

People seem to forget

We crawled on sediments of shale

Before we wrote the alphabet

We're all chemical cocktails

And death is not a threat

It's just another sea we sail

A concluding sunset