In heated moments
I now to speak to my dad
with calm aplomb and authority

and he now sees I'm no longer
his boy with needs not met

but who am I


a question I'll scrawl
to myself on a postcard
with a half dead
felt tip pen

waikiki
now in sepia tones
fading and fainter
with each passing day

this weekend I thought
my wife and I were
un moored from our marriage

almost as if it happened
on an overnight flight

(the felt tip pen now dead)

but she sailed back to me
when I suggested we shop
for postcards

if they still exist

and send them
to each other even
though we are here
and not there

I'll also try to find
and buy a new felt tip pen

I like the way
the wet sloppy ink
kisses the card stock