One’s Gray Period

How conspiratorial

The sins of the father

How comforting

To know

How haunting

A father never gone

A gray old man has bad dreams

Sleeping little from fear

He shuffles on bare feet

From room to room

Without touching the light switch

Occasionally pausing

Leaning against a random door frame

Thinking of entrances

Of exits

All while listening for his heartbeat.

Curious ears press the wall

Mice are restless tonight

A glance across the room

To be alone

The man of gray

Squints at this classroom

Offering its nightly window dark

 Like a blackboard wiped clean

Save a chalk line dividing

Remembrances left

And experiences abandoned

Forgotten right

Time’s wasting

Prostate calls

Followed by a glass of water

If only

The outside wasn’t so ear-catching

With its routine sirens

Drunken wanderlusts singing down the street

And alley cats dumpster diving

A gust of wind passes through the window

Erasing chalkboard melancholy

While Gray’s dead father shuffles past him

On his way to the kitchen

His midnight snack time

Will everything please stay as it's been for so long

So very long

Time to pee.