Father’s Day

alone, at dusk, emptying another
wineglass while fireflies send
their light to the moon.
Text messages remain
unanswered. The waiting
a million tiny papercuts.
The distant freeway hum
a long continuous sigh.
Navigating the bridge from
here to there always depends
on a roll of the dice.
Loneliness best served alone,
with no desire to inhale
the infectious laughs of
happy people, no easy way
to slip through the seam
between the past and everything else.