Missed, in Any Weather
The farthest thing from my mind
when I’m chipping away
at the frozen layer on my driveway
on a chilly, mid-Missouri February morning
that, as usual, has as much rain as snow
is to wish for more of the same.
But here I am on a ninety-six degree day
in August crossing a Target parking lot
as I wade through heat waves
rising from the asphalt that remind me
of that Vegas hospital parking lot
in early June of ’93 after visiting Dad
and thinking he’d be flying home soon –
we know how that worked out –
wishing I could have one of those
ice-crusted snow days. Or better yet,
just one more minute working beside Dad
at Overland Express back in Buffalo
in the ’70s with the snow blowing
between the trailers and across the dock,
his face just as red from the cold
as it would get if he were here with me
on this hot, August Missouri day.
This is my response to Twiglet 290: ice-crusted snow.
As it happens this also meets the challenge for Poetics: Sometimes August isn’t recognized, the prompt from Sanaa at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.
rivrvlogr 
Beautifully done, Ken, the way you merged August with winter and missing your father.
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Thank you, Merril. I just added audio.
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Excellent!
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That’s the way to treat an August prompt. As a springboard to a totally different line of thought. Love what you did.
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Thank you, Jane.
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🙂
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The poem is moving and wonderful. I like the contrasts in seasons and sensations of the cold with the hot days. The weather reflects the emotions, and I can feel the ice and the heat. You don’t say directly what happened, and I think that’s good. The line “- we know how that worked out -“ speaks volumes. I can clearly picture you in each scene as the memories shift from one scene to another. Grief stays with us in each season. We never forget. Really good poem.
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Thank you. I did not expect to go in this direction, but I guess anything can spark a memory. His birthday would be tomorrow, so there is that.
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Synchronicity!
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This flows beautifully, in and out of memories, and weather. A poem that comes in waves.
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Thank you, and thanks for the prompt.
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This is incredibly moving, Ken. I love how you transition from February to August and share glimpses with us. The emotions here are so palpable. Thank you so much for writing to the prompt ❤❤
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And thank you, Sanaa. This seemed to write itself.
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You’re most welcome ❤️❤️
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Excellent poem and reading! I was very moved.
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Thank you, Liz.
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You’re welcome, Ken.
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Lovely poem. I like how you combined the two prompts.
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Thank you.
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Love the idea of memoir poetry! Your poem flowed back and forth in thought seamlessly.
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Thank you, Sara.
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Such a heartfelt poem. The contrast of the heat with the coldness, and brings a poignancy to your memory of your Dad.
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Thank you, Grace. I’ll always miss him.
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You have woven this one together so well, Ken. Missed in any month of the year and in any weather is a great way to describe your feelings for your dad! Such great contrasts that really work in your poem. Well done!
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Thank you, Dwight. When it comes to memories, some poems write themselves.
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yes, you are right about that!
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You might enjoy Joe Neely’s blog. He is a fellow kyaker from Grand Rapids MI.
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Lovely poem
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Thank you.
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A wonderful poem of longing and remembrance. A sweet tribute to your father that made my heart ache a little.
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Thank you. Time may heal, but it never fills the emptiness.
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I’m just blown away, Ken. And to hear you reading it was fantastic! I love this poem so much, the circling, the memories, it’s just fantastic.
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Thank you, Sarah. It’s easier now to write something like this than in decades past, but writing it, in itself, requires a short period of recovery.
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The way you weave in missing your father is brilliant. This is so well-written
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Thank you. 🙂
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Loved listening to you read it and how you combined the two divergent prompts to weave a beautiful tribute to your father.
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Thank you, Punam.
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You are welcome, Ken.
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Winter and summer memories embroidered beautifully!
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🙂 Thank you.
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