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To My Father

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I'm sorry I didn't reach out
and I'm sorry I never called,
I'm sorry if I made you doubt
that I cared about you at all,
you’re more than just the silhouette
that my memories now contain,
that day cemented my regret
and it welds me to my pain.

The day on which I lost you,
a day that I’ll remember,
like your hearty stove top stew
and building me my Fender,
you were fighting to get air,
soon to be lost to the drift,
I spoke so you knew I was there,
then you gave me one last gift.

Owed no words and yet you gave three
through walls of mucoused scars,
and you gave them to tell me
just how proud of me you are,
and despite how much it hurt you
to talk to me on the phone,
I heard you say “I love you”
before your final voyage home.

I don’t know if we’ll meet again,
I can’t see behind the veil,
but I know I’ll surely know when
it’s my own time to set sail,
until the boat comes for me too
I’ll keep your face in my mind,
and I’ll always wish to hear you
call me your sunshine one more time.