My dad wanders in and out of my dreams.
The conversations are better than I ever remember.
He says stuff to me now.

Apparently being dead does bring wisdom.
We were watching a flood, him and me.
Up home.
Must have been astral travel cause I don't know
how I could have got there.

Well, anyway, we were watching the water storm through the yard and the street and the middle of the house.
And I could feel my insides aching to mourn for all the things that I watched float away.
He just grinned.
And said "let it go, it's just stuff."

And I ducked my head and wiped away the tears and wondered again
how he got so smart.