Father's Day
Potato chips and
coffee breakfast
Sitting at the table where
you used to sit
Staring at the empty space on the table
where you used to
leave your keys
In the quiet
the kitchen windows
frame the damp monochrome skies
and I can hear the trucks hum
and bump on the uneven pavement
speeding east down route 80
The same song that you
heard while having coffee
and whole grain toast
after you tested your blood sugar levels
I found the potato chips
The bag was half full and rolled up tightly
in the closet
circled with a doubled up rubber band
Exactly how I find them
every time I visit
Outside
the wind is picking up
pulling at every leaf
Each tree bends
to hang on to each one
not wanting to let
any go.
