Twilight

Midsummer twilight—

from a fading photograph

my father still smiles.

Sing

Little brown sparrow,

at my father’s funeral

you began to sing.

the only roadmap

for my father’s last journey—

white chrysanthemums

Yellow butterfly,

how long will you keep vigil

at my father’s grave?

In the same canoe

that took my father downstream,

I find my paddle.

my father’s ashes

dribbling from a plastic bag

punctured by a mouse

The same coffee cup

from which my father once drank

holds nothing for me.