I had this poem up at Thanksgiving 2004, and have it up again the week before the 2007 edition. My own father was alive and well then, and he is gone now as I repost this fine Robert Hershon short piece.
Sentimental Moment, Or Why Did the Baguette Cross the Road?
Don’t fill up on bread
I said absent-mindedly
The servings here are huge
My son, whose hair may be
receding a bit, says
Did you really just
say that to me?
What he doesn’t know
is that when we’re walking
together when we get
to the curb
I sometimes start to reach
for his hand
That is so sweet! Thank you for posting this (and for your Thursday poems - you’ve introduced me to many fine poets that I am grateful for). I’m forwarding this to my mother, who I know will relate!