I met my dear father at Boston's South Station, after many sad years of estrangement. It was the day before Orthodox Easter and the meeting in a tiny pub went well enough. The next day, however, he had a debilitating stroke. This poem is about that day of meeting, our loving words, and my ambivilance about seeing him at the hospital.

During that meeting I wispered in is ear: "Tommorow He rises, and all is well and good for us both. Christos Anesti"" He looked at me 'right then' and for the first time in his life he had no idea that the next day was Greek Easter.
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Half dead you lie in wait for me
All trampled by the coursing blood we share
You dip into fogs by floods
And I'm not coming your way

Spirit sprite you deftly lure
All my chief ambitions moored up and assured
Sailing into dreams of help and praise and help and praise
At wrap-up when I come you're never there
See, your fading half baked and bare
Right then

I didn't weep and stayed in sight close by
You saw me trampling the waters through it all
For years I swept away in the wake of your living
Now your eyes a blearing blind are wandering to find
Me.

On spying my trail through the ocean curl you whispered -I'm sorry- and
It sounded like a locomotive ruling the room
My heart galvanized and spirit screamed- a train has left it's tracks!
Right then, can't you hear it?
That's why I came , yes I came to you
Right then

I'm not coming this time old thief
I'm not coming because you're not there
Only dreamily shaking your finger at me and wondering:
Is that you curling with the sea? Could it be?
Where are you, my son?

I saw you lie half dead in the wake for me
I saw your eyes blanche improbable-- that final day
As my lips clipped your ear with reminders of comfort and hope and comfort and hope
I prayed in them: Tomorrow He rises and that is Good
Tomorrow He Rises and all is possible–but you dimmed
right then

I left you at South Station with a blinking dulled brain
A small cardioid vessel broke its tenuous hold
right then
But no sirens wailed or help arrived
right then
The paramedics weren't on the Red Line
right then

You weren't sorry
Right then
You didn't know Easter
Right then
You didn't wake up
Right then
You left
Right then

It was just Me
Right then

Right there with you
Right then

And the next day as He arose
You fell down
Shivering and cold
Hit in the leg by lightening
Right then

Half dead you lie in wait for me
All trampled by the coursing blood we share
You dip into fogs by floods
And I'm not coming your way

I'm not coming old thief
I'm not coming because you're not there
Only dreamily shaking my finger at you and no farther:
Is that you curling with the sea? Could it be?
Where are you, my father?