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Ode To 88

by Barbara Klinman

It is no chore, be assured,
to rouse you from darkened thoughts.
To recall together times past,
when all those in memory were vibrant
and full of decision.
I remember you as daredevil,
when viewed from my provincial, childish perch;
a wide-eyed participant, insisting to ride again
on the coaster, or, heading out too far into the surf,
frightening us all on the sand until you reappeared.
I was afraid of losing you then;
I am afraid of losing you now.
The fears of my childhood were short-lived,
quickly replaced by assurances;
I was easily bolstered by your strength.
The fears of today are lonelier, pervasive to my very core.
There is no longer a feeling of forever,
and the strengths are faltering, at best.
We stir a mix of nostalgia and talk of today;
Sweet memories swirling with blunt honesty of your plight.
In the spirit of all that has led us to now,
we carry on.
For Dad, April 2002






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