POEM - My Father is the Ghost My Mother Lives With

This isn't some metaphor

A loveless marriage

Ships passing in the night

Some abandoned halls of an empty four chamber heart

My father is in fact deceased

He expired and is no more Encased 

In this mortal coil

But it is a decade and a half later

And I only think of him when I need to

Or when my mother is talking

Or on the anniversaries

Of his birth or his death

But my mother still sort of needs him

To be around

Make sure things are in order

Be a presence to fill a lonely void

Somehow

And she expects him to be there

And when she talks about the little signs

The signals he still gives her

I don't think of it dismissively 

As the quaint fantasies of an addled mind

No mater how much I want to

Because I know she believes they are parted

But not separated 

And she believes forever is real

And he did to

And we all believe in ghosts

That like to visit on an occasion

Like to whisper to the grandchildren

To tell mom to do the dishes

Because he always told her that

He is the ghost that she lives with

That checks on her now and then

Whispers to her as well

Little things to calm her nerves

Lets her catch a glimpse of him

Out of the corner of her eye

With a big smile on his face

That raises his eyebrows 

And makes his eyes twinkle mischievously