Last night I dreamt I saw my son

Walking through the graveyard

With a rose lonely in his fingers.

The look on his face reminds me

Of a time when I sat on the bad

End of a phone conversation that

Tore me up and left me with voids

So empty I sat and pressed refresh

Every other one-hundred seconds

Hoping she would hint that maybe

She didn’t mean all the damaging

Things she said to me that one day.

The heels of his black dress shoes

Leave dotted lines in the gravel

Where they skipped lethargically.

He stops at a small smooth stone.

The words on the arch were barely

Legible, but as he kneeled the sun

Shone just right on the slab of sand

To where the numbers 1992-2031

And the epitaph talking of a man

Who never saw things the way they

Were because he never did look in

The right direction, but at least he

Had a differing look on it, stood out.

He laid down the day old rose just as

His dad had taught him to put on his

Mother’s grave, and he said the little

Prayer that he promised he would on

The day that his mom and dad met.

No tear from his eye rolling down his

Face. No sniffle of sadness breaking

The silence. No emotion of sadness.

Just the feeling of regret that his dad

Did not do everything he could have

In his mere existence on this gigantic

Blue ball we all love to call a place of

Broken walls and built bridges going

From one lonely person to another.

My alarm went off and I woke up and

Tried to remember what I dreamt, but

I tried in vain because I quickly Forgot.