Friday, January 13, 2023
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I lost my father.
Can one lose what one never had?
The Search:
permanent, engrossing and sad
that I never had him
to search for a memory
to pretend, to make one up
of a rainy afternoon in his garage,
of arguments uncertain or
touch revealing.
I forgot to question:
Why it is that
the sun remains without
the sky,
the photograph without the joy,
the feeling without understanding
why?
On the edge of time
I stand,
Facing neither inward nor
outward, past or beyond,
without a hand to point
to the paths and places of lost time.
So long Father.
Jason Balan
