FLYING HOME

by Marilyn Flower

I'd like to say

I didn't know

he'd die that day,

the morning I fled

my father. I held

his legs against

the palsy,

pressed his jumping

body to the hospital

cot. Early

Monday, the nurse

brings his pill;

he turns

his head away.

I know he’ll be gone

by nightfall.

I kiss him, kiss

Mother (who doesn't

know), race

from the room,

terrified

he'll leave

before the airport

bus carries me away.

He waits

until evening

to take that breath

subdued.

Knowing you knew, Dad,

I sigh, content

we blessed

each other’s flight.

* * * * *

           

"Flying Home" was first published in Poets and Dreamers Literary Journal (April 2016).  

Marilyn Flower teaches literature in the Emeritus program at Saddleback College in Mission Viejo. California. She is a strong advocate for parity for part-time faculty.