Since my father’s passing several years ago
There began to grow in my
inner, spiritual ear,
a persistent buzzing.
It was faint at first
but as I have excelled to those years
When he, at my age, was sole parent,
the thrum yet increased.
Rizzz! I heard when we got a dog
My father thought dogs to be
Ruzzz sounded the alarm
more firmly still
when my teenage daughter
casually flaunted the word
“butthole” at the family dinner table.
Shaking my finger within my ear
to clear the gnat-like noise,
I could not clear
that growing disturbance
which somehow also
brought familiar comfort.
It was when my husband
announced the impending
ponytail intended for his crown
that the low hum began
and would not cease
Riiiiiiizzzzzzz screamed the noise
the morning I fixed my beloved’s hair
into a beguiling golden cascade
and my daughter wore blue jeans to church
My head sought to split from the
whine so like a dentists drill.
Oh MY – when the full impact
washed over me
What sweet relief to know the source
was merely the sound
of dear Papa Bear
spinning in his grave.