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Dads are people sons never
forget, for good or bad and
when the son is gone there
is no one to remember the
father. Say for some fading
black and white photos in a
scrap book: "That was your
great grandfather. He fought
in the war. People called him
Bud, but his real name was
Wyett with an E. He taught
me to cast a fly in a mountain
stream and tune the engine
in my first car, and not to lie."

My grandsons almost grown
are good and loving chaps, but
never ask me about their Great
Grandfather. Out of sight, out of
mind, I guess. Maybe I am the last
to remember or care. Our touchstones
to the past are frail at best.
Yes, on this day and everyday
I remember my Father with the
same love he bestowed upon me.
 Jun 2023 Edmund black
yāsha
i think i exist only to love
but never experience,
a pretentious bag of bones like me
will only stir your feelings
     —you will wallow in it for some time
     and then you will forget about me
like a cup of coffee that has gone cold.

but if i must admit,
it's because i do stunt my own growth:
in life, in love, but strangely enough,
                                           not in death.
an odd number of reasons
aid my tendencies;
they get glued together to form
a paper-maché of well-composed farewells
—a craft i have mastered in my years of longing.

i think i exist only to love,
but never experience—
yet here i am, still longing
until i get a hand to hold.
 Jun 2023 Edmund black
HOPE
A DAD
 Jun 2023 Edmund black
HOPE
There is a difference between a father,
And someone you call a "Dad",

A father being only a naming word,
Whereas a dad is a doing word,
who steps in to love, guide, teach,
pick up the the pieces,
And have you experience the beauty of your creation through his eyes
my heart’s so fragile;
i’m afraid to give it away,

all that’s left of me is
a sarcastic personality,
and even that is
starting to fade.
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