(1948 / OVER 400 POEMS SERVED! !)

Trying To Find Him

The problem is,
a family's a family,
and then when you grow up,
it may not be,

and when dad and I
sat in that booth at Denny's
a year before he died
and just before I moved
back here to California,

I tried to find the man
who'd held me once on his lap
and sang 'Sonny Boy, '
I tried to be that Sonny Boy,

but I searched in a flurry
through all the molecules
of available air
for some that might conduct
our love to one another again,

and I had to make do with the memory
and a gruff old man in front of me
who didn't seem to approve
of anything I did,
yet didn't want me to leave

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Comments (2)

max reif... u are writing is veeryfinelley... Trying to find him is hit heart...!
Max, you always break my heart with poems about your dad/son relationship...sort of reminds me of my father/daughter relationship. Yet from the perspective of old age: (I see that whatever I am today has been molded to some extent by that difficult time in my life. And I know what a decent, gifted man you have become...so go with that. And God bless. Raynette