ONE MORE CALL

Sometimes we’d call each other on holidays.
Most of the time we meant to, but didn’t.
We never sent each other birthday cards and
probably never took notice when looking at
a calendar that it was a day to call each other.
A couple times a year, we spoke on the phone
when he had a spare moment or when my wife
reminded me that staying in touch is important.

Now, these days while driving and looking out
across an open field, I think about how much
I want to tell him, how much I would say,
if I could have just one more conversation.
We’d talk about the weather, old times,
relatives, his grandson doing well in school.
Each day, I say to myself, like so many others now-
If only he was still alive. I’d call him again, and again.