Missing Fathers

My brother called to run by me

Some thoughts about our dad,

To see if mine would sync with

Certain memories he had.

 

He focused on a conversation

When, with lots to drink,

Our dad talked war, a topic

From which he’d most often shrink.

 

My recollection wasn’t clear,

Although it rang a bell

But my bro remembered details

That my father’d rarely tell:

 

Being trapped inside a foxhole

When a sudden sneak attack

Spared my dad but all his fellow troops

Would not be coming back.

 

The remainder of today I spent

With spouse and kids and grands

For a Fathers’ Day that every lucky

Parent understands.

 

But inside my head I thought about

My father and the war

And I wished he had lived long enough

To want to tell me more.