Regeneration
Dad is on the phone and do you want to talk to him,
my mother asks on the day after Christmas.
After our hellos he asks when I got in, breaking
the ice. I say late last night and just like that
we end the silence of years. He tells me
how he lost his balance and fell
and watch out for peripheral neuropathy
and diabetes—all the boys in the family have it,
he says, Uncle Paul, his father, too. He tells me
about a lunch with an important someone
who's arranging an important meeting and now he’s back
in business, dropped thirty pounds, cholesterol normal,
blood sugar under control. I tell him
how great to hear. Doctor says I’m a poster child
for a man my age, he says, sounding so proud, so pleased.
I’m happy for him—a new sensation. I tell him
keep up the good work—words strung together
to repair a lifelong numb, like damaged nerves
relearning to feel.
Happy new year, Michael… how to regenerate? Waltzing around the true subject…. Familiar to us all. Your writing often takes me to a place. I need to enter and observe in order to heal. Thank you.