Much Like Living

It was with almost joy

that I watched at my father's

deathbed. His struggle

to let go

of his body and thoughts

was like being at a birth.

But now I'm not so sure.

Now that I'm back

with my life.

Unlike Lear

who will never, never

see his daughter again

I feel the man's presence

in every third thought

as one who went before.

Twice that Spring he said

Rob, I'm dying

but I failed to ask my question

What is it like? 

He wouldn't have been able

to say. Not

because he didn't know.

Because it's so

much like living.