Papa
To this extent,
Dad, forgive my long pause at
“It’s cancer, John.”
And your good cheer
thereafter,
for now the kingdom I serve
loves vowels, knows the endings of names
and the price of all things,
the costs of courage, betrayal, ordinary cowardice
longing,
slight ease in the afternoon,
the evening’s step
to dream,
the age of ending,
father,
my father.