A PREEMPTIVE MOURNING

I’d like to be near where my father lived

back in Oklahoma where I grew up 

all those many years ago

I’d let my beard grow all white and gnarly 

and I’d say whatever the hell I wanted to say

‘cause why talk if you’re not gonna say the truth?  

I’d like to have a dog like any of his dogs and

walk it around the reservoir each morning and 

think about my life and what it all amounted to

I’d get a sail boat, just a little catamaran, so I could 

sail that dirty old lake like he loved to do with 

his good friend, Bob, once they got older

and knew that the days were there to be cherished 

I've never liked motorcycles, especially Harleys 

but maybe if I got one and rode that noisy sucker

out along that lonely countryside, I'd finally get it

and learn to enjoy it as much as he did   

I suppose I should get a gun then and go 

deer hunting and try to feel what it felt like 

to do that and then to never do it again

I really should go back there and do these things

to try to feel what it felt like to be him while

he reached his peace in those golden years

if nothing else, I should find a way to go there

for a visit soon and be alone with him, just the

two of us, and maybe get a hot link if that place

is still there, or climb Mt. Baldy if we’re up for it

I suppose more than anything, I’d like this to be

what MY son would want once I am gone or even 

before I’m gone if he’s ever alone somewhere

thinking about me.