(An unceremonious changing of the guard.)

So Sorry, Dad

His mouth said no words.
His face expressionless,
but speaking volumes
as I drove his car
away from him today.
An unceremonious
changing of the guard.

Dad was King of the World.
And the road, in this car,
no longer his.
His driving time and freedom,
final. Behind his wheel.

I wanted to quickly pull away,
to spare his lingering look
from memory.
I, instead, inexplicably, eased
slowly out of view,
thus, so catching a telltale
glimpse of my old father’s face.

A glimpse revealing what he
saw in a painstaking flash:
mom, his family members,
together, still alive …
his children all living at home,
co-mingling, excited, sharing
secrets and conversation …
his hopes and dreams, and his
forever freedom still attainable …
the inevitable future on hold,
and not arriving for a while.

Until today.

Today isn’t the vacating of
a man’s earned freedom,
or a car at his command.
But a realization stark,
of the fleeting
passing of his past.

So sorry, dad.