Time’s Window

approaching my new home
it was the first thing I noticed
the fasciating weathered old window

time after time
I watched through that window
as dad returned home from work
his face chill from a winter evening
or warm from the setting sun
always wonderfully gritty

day’s end stubble
would scrub my cheeks
as he’d gather me in his arms
coming through the door
factory permeating his khaki shirt

I love that puzzlingly pleasing smell

soon as he was in the house
he’d grab me up
tumble me to the floor
lift me high in the air
to fly
right out that magical window

I could always fly with my dad’s support

and the time he shielded me
behind his strong legs
as the neighbor’s rabid collie
came at me so suddenly
snarling at me through that old window

I was frightened but felt so safe

and those magical moments
as a child
every christmas eve
dad would take me by the hand
and walk me uptown
into our little burg
through the brisk air
under the bright lights of the season
and into each cozy store

everyone was celebrating
shop owners heaping candy
and assorted goodies on me

then we’d head back home
as we approached
I saw our christmas tree
somehow magically decorated
sparkling through that window

it was a christmas miracle
every year

santa had come
while we were gone

I was always confused
by the multiple santas
we would encounter on our little walk

but I was never confused
about my father’s love

then there’s the time
he introduced me to hardball
broke a pane in that old window

his rubbing away the tears
first time
I was hit by a pitch

and when he taught me to catch
then throw a football

the moment he handed me the keys
to his classic Chrysler
parked right outside that window
shiny — and now mine

when he cried at my graduation
and again at my marriage
and still again
at the birth
of each of his three grandchildren

I see so many incredible memories
floating toward and past me
gazing out that window

so many

a lifetime of love
captured and framed
by that weathered old window

dad lies quietly in bed now
under that worn old window
love folds frail on his timeworn face
and gentle tears

I add mine
falling
mixing with his
as I stand over him
leaning down to kiss his cheek
helpless
watching him go

sun embracing softly on his weary form
through that old window

I linger to kiss his stubbled face
one last time

“goodbye dad, you saved my life!”

rob kistner © 2020