An Ode to My Dear Dad

I was walking past a store today

glancing in at the display

when I saw him, my dear Dad!

Glancing back as he often had

When we would drive round

With no destination bound.

But it couldn’t be,

as was so aware for me

he passed away years ago.

to be buried where we know.

He seemed to be there.

His strong profile and grey hair,

gently smiling, “Hey” he said

not showing signs of being dead.

I looked again but the light was dim

Now not seeing any sign of him.

But this time I saw my face

Signs of aging that I could trace

Hair once blond, gone brown, then grey

Matching the age of my face today

And the familiar profile to be had

By the all the sons of my dear Dad.

Was it just my own reflection?

Or is there more for my detection?

As I age is there something to be aware

If I would adventure to dare

Review our history and reveal

What was the real deal?

But my brothers have long past

And I know not how long I will last.

Does the next generation even care,

perhaps it would be too much to bear?

For now, we will let sleeping dogs lie,

Leaving secrets with those that die

In their places where we put them

With no threats to condemn

For actions taken in commission

or not, leaving it as sins of omission.

To my Dad who rests for evermore

My we speak of him only to adore

What he did to give us life,

mention not what caused us strife.

By Joe van Koeverden