The last time I saw my dad, 
I didn’t know it would be the last.
I hugged him as I was leaving,
not sure where to put my hands
so as not to hurt his back–
part bent and gnarled,
the other recently healed from surgery.
He was small,
not the tall, strong father
I had always known.
I could feel the bones of his spine
as he squeezed me tight,
then tighter still.
I wished that I had hugged him tighter,
held him longer.
I hope I’ll feel that hug
for the rest of my life.