A few days ago I read dad jokes to you
and inspirational sayings
about fathers.
I said the Spanish prayers
for the dead.
It once was a day when
the kids called you
one by one
for lengthy phone conversations
about their children
and the Minnesota Twins
and the weather,
all safe topics
you were eager to discuss.
But now it’s a one-sided
chat beside a grave
about the minutiae
that probably does not
matter to you
where you are now,
so far away from us
in a much better place.