Five Months

Half the Sunday
paper on Saturday.
I would leave the business

section folded, unread
for him. All that caution—
still he preferred

The Wall Street Journal. Grilled
salmon with his secret
marinade sauce

in the years
I ate fish. It always came down
to The Run or The Walk—

capital T, capital R, or
capital T, capital W.

The Asbury Park
boardwalk. Trails
in South Mountain Reservation.

The Delaware
and Raritan
Canal State Park.

The Mississippi
riverfront overlooking
Saint Anthony Falls.

The Kinsale
Old Head before
it became a golf course.

From those Kokomo
rural routes to
a nursing home hallway,

so many other roads, trails,
paths, passageways
to his life. If I could begin

today, how many days,
months, years would it take
to map it all? If I can recall

a path a day, I might
make a little bit of progress
the way he wished.

2 thoughts on “Five Months

  1. Amy – I continue to be moved by your poems. Only because of the tag line do I ask if this is about your dad. If so, my condolences. Very touching piece in any event.


    • Jori: Thanks so much for reading my blog again. Yes, my father died 5 months ago–I miss him terribly. He had Alzheimer’s, and I know (from Amy) that you have endured that awful experience too with your mother. The poetry helps me work through the grief. Actually, poetry is really how I get through anything.


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