i wonder who i would be if you had talked to me
as a friend and father when i was young
the oldest of four children

i wonder what life would have been like in our tightly packed
cedar shingled Seattle home if conversation and counseling
had replaced strong words and alder switches?

i wonder how you would have been without the booze
the maudlin blues when reminiscing about the “good old days”
when papa took your older brothers to the woodshed
and nonny worshiped you, her “sonny boy”?

When i grew fearless of your force
i directed my anger not at you but raged
against an unjust war and racial bigotry—
our shared affliction

The bliss of revolutionary dawn
was soon eclipsed by deception and delusion
the dirty details of global Americanization
under Ike, JFK, LBJ, Nixon, Reagan, Bush

The sore of youthful hurt festered
deep beyond mere memory until
near the end of your life
we laughed and hugged

You kissed my cheek
and told me you were sorry
for any and all mistakes
you made when i was a child

That i was right about black power
and a lot of things
that you were proud of me
All was forgiven

You lived long enough to teach me that time
and a word of regret can heal the deepest wound
i learned it’s never too late to say
I’m sorry