If You Were to Return in Dreams

If you were to return in dreams

I’d turn away, afraid to look,

Afraid to hope

that it could all have been 
a loathsome trick

a mistake.

The speed, the wall

metal splattering across the median

the phone call, the disbelief

the searing acceptance,

the scream.

If you were to return in dreams

what would we talk about?

The children impoverished 
in ways beyond counting

the empty places in the family album

where you will never be middle-aged

a grandfather

a proper old-man corpse.

I’d try to say how sorry I am

for harsh words, unanswered phone calls

tough love that led to unimagined consequences

for loving too much, trying too hard, 
not trying harder

for being the first to blame

but also glad that I was always

the last to let go of the possibility

that things would get better.