Today

 I sit with myself for awhile

putting handles on what I've placed

With empty hand I can grasp them

And put back memories abandoned on dinner table

Back onto My Library shelves.

There is a place in our hearts and minds and necks

My Dad lives now in memory and our hearts and connections,

And quite a few odds and ends like Knick-Knacks,

Twixt us and them his friends and family as scions of my Dad.

We are Sprouted, Pruned, and Planted Elsewhere now...

We keep going, sadly, we keep going For --Oblivion-- itself won't save us.

I have to go through the door and keep going

Because I can't go underneath, around, or over the difficult wall.

I have to keep going, I've only been shown the door

And it is I that has to walk through it.