What Will You Do, Dad?

Dad in Swansboro, North Carolina, in 2012 to celebrate Mother's Day with me and Mom.

I swore I would not miss you this third year

Since your passing, but  the dust won’t settle:

Truth presents himself in memory’s flesh,

Touches my chin to turn my gaze upward.

This is a red flag day, NOAA reports,

And I look it up:  strong chances of fire

From winds, low humidity, and warmth.

Setting fires today would be foolish.

Of course, I think, your spirit has found me.

Your tireless, dust-stirring Odin soul,

Wandering the world, calls me now, collect,

Tossing, twisting the World Tree to life's fire.

What will you do, Dad? I ask of the trees

That yield, as they must, to this mysterious breeze.

In memory of my Dad, George Oscar Carlson