Today marks thirteen years
yet it feels an age ago
I've only now begun to understand
just how alone my father was
excepting for his wife
my mother
and even she
could only reach so far
into his cloistered world

I remember her telling me
after a friends' husband died
how the friend had told her
that the saddest part was feeling
she had never known him
never known her husband
of so many years

What does this knowing look like
what paths lead
into that clearing
that opening in the forest
of our hearts
where our loved ones can enter
and then later tell themselves
they truly knew us

I don't imagine that my mother
felt the sadness of not knowing
only the longing
to be back with him again
in the next life

I picture them today in the next world
continuing their loving verbal tennis match
sipping coffee reading the celestial
New York Times
my father with his
Ruth how could you ever
be so stupid!
and my mother
Harold just because
you know a lot of things
don't forget
you cast your vote
for Nixon!