tell me a story

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It’s a little after sunrise, sc0033e6fd02-1
an early autumn morning—
a chill of hope in the air;
the sunrise is the color of stories.
Today is your birthday.
I’m still keeping count though you
are no longer celebrating:
eighty-eight.

I live in a house you never
visited, in a town you
never saw; I have a new
job you knew nothing of . . .
and I wonder about the life
you lived before me: the
twenty-eight summers and falls,
the stories I never heard.
We were father and son,
yet so much more.

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7 COMMENTS

  1. all ways inviting us into family, until we realize there is a family where I can know Milton E. as my father, too; and you my brother always!

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  2. Thinking of you. A friend told me “Close your eyes, breathe, remember, and you will smile.” Sometimes it’s all I need to get through a bad time. Love from the Duceys

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