So simple a choice
to step outside into this faint solstice eve
with the roar of cars quieting on the streets
and the big empty full of peach clouds.

So simple the freedom
to sit here gazing at the unmoving trees,
shaggy in their summer beards,
leery of the propellers above
breaking the delicious silence.

So simple the pain,
and deep the anger,
that starts in my belly and then rises
from the knowing that you can no longer
sit out somewhere,
pen in hand,
wondering at the beauty and sadness
weaved into each passing moment.

So simple a thing,
to accept,
and Dad
I'm trying.