For Pops on your Birthday

I know you are thinking of me, I hope with fondness.

I can feel it seeping into my heart like some sort of laser beam.

Does that mean I still love you?

Can you still love while it fades?

It’s hard to be on this side too, it feels like I should know better or know more than I do.

My dad sent me a text, a long bit about regret and love,

It was riddled with musing I had hoped to hear my whole life.

Funny, it doesn’t strike as worth much now that I am older.

Now I send it right back with love and sorrow that it hits him there, 

In that heart place,

The place that has been closed for a very long time.

For me, well, for me I have had enough love that has been imprinted on the everyday.

In the little moments.

In the times that rearrange your brain in the most sufficient way,

Raindrops in a bucket add up.

I hope you are well.

You and my pops.

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