I wish that I was indifferent
That gone are many memories
Of my belated father
I recall with ease his soft green eyes;
The shape of his ragged jawline;
Green with thick stubble
The sheen of his well balding head
And his straight Roman nose.
Other memories are more like fillers
That others have implanted
And I hate that I’m forgetful
I know that I knew his smell;
What his voice sounded like,
And the tilt of his smile.
Images and sounds pop
Like tiny bubbles in my brain
Each year a little more is obliterated
Erased are his poignant words
And the things we talked about
Though I know we talked a lot
Liquid silver pours into my heart
When I think of him
And I’m overwhelmed by emotions
Because the day he died is still fresh
As if memory is on a loop
I strain myself to remember the good things
The things that matter the most
Just as I think I am about to recall
Something substantial
The details evaporate
Expunged from my thoughts
By some alien force.
We shared a lot of time
Though such time is now stolen
Picked clean from my brain over thirty years
And I hate that I am forgetful