Steve Denehan

A Poem from My Father to My Mother

Remember when we met
when I was a kite
when you were the wind
when Dublin was dance-hall days
foggy nights
what-ifs and maybes

remember when I fell into myself
how you forgave me
and forgive me still
remember Burt Bacharach in the hotel lobby
when you exclaimed, “It’s him!”
remember how we used to dance
how the room spun with us
This Guy’s in Love with You
remember when you said, “Yes.”

remember those funhouse mirror years
when you remained a childless mother
remember the worry in your voice
when you threw the word into the air
not knowing if I would catch it
remember how I was the fool
who should have held you

remember how they grew
in our arms
on our laps
how they left
but never leave
remember when months became decades
and we forgave ourselves
for getting old

remember before

I started

to forget

remember when we ran across the dawn
or wanted to, at least