Play in Peace

I have an aunt hot in pursuit
of my DARdom.

I have a cousin who fluffs up
her hair for pictures while
you look flat and brunette
to the side.

I have a sister with whom
nothing's wrong except
a wedge a lake depth long.

My mother is good, and she
would frown to see the word
"ass" written down.

And then there's my gentle
brother who drove our dead
man to town.

Which leaves my father.
Who got whom?
I hope you and the final buck
have your word and, like in a
Disney film, take turns
poking and laughing and tumbling
in the grass, sister, brother, mother,
savior, lion, lamb, blood, water,
silhouetting as a marker:
enemies may become best friends
if one ushers & follows.



TWW
2/18/16



Writer's notes:  I know this is a strange poem, but I'm not to a point where I can write a more conventional one about the passing of my father. So, I write this darkly humorous one, but also one that has sadness and hope. The sadness is that my loved family member is gone; the hope is that Dad is happy-full in heaven. Dad would like this kind of humor, especially about my mother, and the fact that he and a buck could be eternally entwined. I can see his dimples and eye-glinting now to pick up on this strand of strange humor joy. Thanks, Dad, for getting it, and I hope you and your new friend are enjoying your time together with Jesus. :)
** DAR -- Daughters of the American Revolution