It comes to pass
A summer’s drive reminds me of when I was a teenager
We would go out, you would drive and talk
while I would sulk in the seat beside you and try not to listen
Complaining that you would talk about nothing
Demanding you would get to the point.
The innocence of father’s and sons,
As impatient as I was, I figured you would always be there.
So it really did not matter if I listened at that moment.
I know you are mortal.
And I know
That when you die, a part of me will be gone too.
And right now
I am having a hard time imagining what it will be like, when you are not there.
So one more time,
Can we go for a drive and talk