Sugarpea

Dearest Sugarpea,

I'd offer you a glass of tea if only I could reach you.

I need some advice.

From you, and only you.

I ask of you that you keep my secret,

And never look down on me as a father.

I missed your life, I waved by as it passed.

I can never forgive myself for that.

But whereas,

I know I'm out of line,

And I know I cannot beg

But how do you think I might get a second chance?

Could I be so bold as to ask you to tell it to me again?--

Your life, I mean.

Somewhere around 'once upon a time' you could tell me your first memory

And who your mother told you I was.

Would you be so kind as to tell me what your first word was,

And how old you were when you first chewed bubble gum,

And climbed inside some rollerskates?

Maybe later you could tell me about those gruesome 'cut a circle' kindergarten tests

Or sing me the first song you memorized?

Tell me, Sugarpea,

Was I a thought in your adolescent head?

Did you think I was a failure?

Did you think I was a hero?

Did you dream of my return?

Or wonder of your rescue?

I'm not sure I want to know.

But I want to know you, Sugarpea.

Because I'm not much for intuition, I don't create

I don't build.

But of all things, Sugarpea,

You're not in shambles.

You built yourself.

And I was hoping you could teach me.