"My Father, at 92" by Anne Higgins - Contest Entry

My Father, at 92

by Anne Higgins

At two o’clock today he declared

“Well, it’s time to go.”

Where?” I asked

Where?” my blind and deaf mother asked.

“Home.”

”But you are home.” we said.

“You’ve been living here eight years,” I said.

“since you were eighty-four.”

My father, now unsteady on your feet,

you don’t remember your location, your wallet, your keys,

but you do remember

when I ran out in front of

oncoming traffic one day,

after kindergarten.

You were on the other side of the street.

You said it was because I was

already nearsighted

and no one knew it yet.

I recall

it was because

I didn’t notice the oncoming traffic –

All I saw was you,

YOU, I saw clearly,

and still do,

standing on the other side of the street,

waiting for me.