Generation Skips

The odd thing that reminds me
how much you are alike
how you would have been friends:
my son is singing The Sound of Silence
and I’m back in the station wagon
8-tracks, lie-la-lie, troubled water
the whole bit. He’s tall but dark
like you, your humor, logic, computer
in the blood, story-need—
see how I build the archetype
man of brains and gentle justice
embracing quiet and I think
we would be glad to go home
if you were still there

 

NaPoWriMo Day 14, off-prompt. For my father, who died suddenly a few days before my son was born.

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10 thoughts on “Generation Skips

  1. What a beautiful expression of that wish for the generations to know where they came from and the legacy they have given. I often wish my parents were here to see the people their grandchildren have become. (K)

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Such a lovely, poignant tribute! It must be both wonderful and sad to see the resemblance between your son and your father. My father got to meet our girls, but he did not get to see them grow up, and I wish he could have.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Thinking back to another poem you wrote ’round about Christmas, which makes those last few lines so much more poignant. This poem has stayed with me since you first posted it a couple days ago – that sense of missing someone, and things never quite being the same. I like the reassurance you bring though, too, through the family connection.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. It is amazing how the generations connect in non-biological ways. And it is such a relief from all the loss life brings that we can look at our wonderful children and see in them all those we miss so much.

    You have said all that so much better …

    Liked by 1 person

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