Father

Father

Father where am I now that you are dust
Are my bones the sunken treasure of your legacy?
Your ghost follows my shadow
like a leper lost in an apothecary of the soul
Who wore a uniform
like a centurion flying on eagle’s wings
On a Hellenic march
to an acropolis of the mind
Where you languished with Mom
in Drachma beatitude
For an unbearable silence
broken by cat murmur
When mercy was a flower
in the shade of a Doric column
Teetering on the brink of tragedy
But moments stolen like the Elgin Marbles
that rest in the twinkle of her eye