Daddy
In
March he turned 95. We celebrated,
witnessing the Daddy we used to know,
laughing
while we sang him Happy Birthday.
His
wife says she’s losing her mind.
She
cried, “He’s declining,”
fell
and broke his hip. Hospital.
I
walk the dog
standing to watch from the path,
nibbled
by the beaver--
spring
lilies crowding the pond.
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