Written: © Maxima
To My Father
I visit my Father.,I can not stop the tears that fall from my eyes
as my hand gently caresses the marble stone
place roses there.
It’s early morning … mist gray spills upon this sacred place.
It’s as though you do not want to see me..
once again as in countless times, I come for your advice.
So many times I’ve needed your hugs, affection.
A kiss, and yes, even forgiveness.
I haven’t gotten that even though I wanted it.
They tell me how you spoke to me, watched me in the cradle,
curled in a blanket by the furnace.
Your eyes were sad, not knowing if you would see the sunsets
of that summer.
With the fall, you were gone.
Covered in leaves that you loved so much, your touch now
a whisper of memory. I let the tears flow.
Somehow I know you look down and cherish those who watched
over us, mother and me, I was just a kid, a young boy, your namesake
that I will never again hear you utter.