a true father

Communication. The key to relationships. My grandmother always touted it, and no truer words have ever been spoken. What happens when we cease communicating? When our actions require discussion and forgiveness, but our hubris stops us from engaging? What if that person dies before we communicate? Tragedy…. History and literature are full of the fallout. This poem is my humble contribution to the dialogue.

Have the Kleenex handy.ย  This understatedly brilliant narration and audio provided by my friend Simon Howard on Twitter is truly sublime.


  1. Well done! What sad regrets we have for words unspoken โ€œin dread beds lies.โ€ What pain we feel as those words continue to remain unspoken until it is too late to speak them. Your poem captures the essence of such regretful loss.

  2. Regret can be overwhelming. We always seem to think we could have done more, we could have done better. We should have. My therapist always says that it’s more uncomfortable to live in regret than it is to attempt an uncomfortable approach or confrontation..even when that approach goes wrong.

    1. Amen, brother. We can never stop digging in and pushing… too many people stay passive and let life own them. Fuck that. Best I can tell, we get this one rotation at life until we return to nothing. Letโ€™s communicate openly and honestly… and deal with the results of that… to me? Thatโ€™s living. ๐Ÿท๐Ÿ™

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