Ultimately, yes, I became my father,
A man learning to forgive his father.
Face it: my father won’t return tonight
Or any night called tonight.
Last I saw him, on the day
He was about to die, I survived
Long enough to hear him say:
“The door to eternity is open now.
I must be going for a walk, a brisk walk,
Among the ruins of a city built by sons
Who worked hard but nevertheless failed
To forgive their fathers.”
It takes courage to admit
My father won’t be joining me for dinner
Tonight or any night called tonight,
Even if a door out of nowhere
Opened and forgiveness herself
Walked through and said my father
Is well. Dead, still. And well.