His car sits idle in the driveway
Waiting for an owner that will never
Return to press his foot upon the accelerator
Or guffaw in the rearview at the goofiness
Of his offspring, who are now haunted
By his absence and yet buoyed by his
Inexplicable presence, his memory having
A mass despite being void of atoms
Touching the cast iron skillet summons
The smell of frying bacon even though the
Stove is cold and her laugh no longer
Echoes in the hallway, a silence that
Resounds loudly enough to actually
Resurrect the sweet lilt of her voice
As her phantom hug encircles
To give comfort to the ones left behind
The creases in his forehead are the timeless
Crevices and canyons through which the river
Of my existence runs, geologic evidence of
His travails and incredulity and as I trod
Stubbornly along they are the path that I
Follow past every point of reason to
The ever-shifting destination that is my birthright
And a familial curse forever alongside
Splashing in the pool with my own little kin
There is an elegantly scarred third to our
Water games, imbuing the festivities with
The tireless patience and careful attention
That it is easy for parents to lack but which
She inspires without realizing that she
Is the platonic ideal of a grandmother,
The most startling manifestation of pure love
Every snowflake conjures his dimples
And the mischievous glint in his eyes
As he still reaches up to touch my shoulder
To goad me onto bigger lines, to push
Me to be the better version of myself
In a way that some days feels oppressive
Like I cannot rest or I will disappoint
Him or waste the time he should have
Witty retorts and a sardonic smile press
Through the firmament to reassure in moments
When survival let alone success seems impossible
Due to doubt that was also her milieu
But which she ignored in order to persevere
And flourish and become an unlikely but
Undeniable exemplar of free will and free speech
In a way that our founders never contemplated
If they are all still here does that mean
That they are now unhappy in their
New metaphysical space and are avoiding
Being there like a kid with warring parents who
Stays out after dark or do they know
That we need the wisp of their apparition
As a bolster, as a connection to the power
That we cannot now readily share
I’m scared of ghosts and worse when they leave