You are--the Caribbean Sea, the Navy, that eagle tattoo...
You are your gold watch, your skinny body, your gnarled fingers.
You are the old motorboat, the scissors in the wall, tomato plants and fishing lines.
You are goodbye.
You are Budweiser beer and chocolate brown cigars--both now sacrificed like so many other things.
You are dancing over the warped kitchen floor--my feet on your feet and so much more than just my hands in your hands.
You are the bar you loved and lost.
You are the battered green Bronco you drove.
You are the red Honda motorcycle where I burned my calf even though you warned me to be careful.
You are the television you built by hand...the shed now gone to ruin in the backyard.
You are such loud snoring you were a man-made thunderstorm at night.
You are Ireland.
You are the pin in your ankle...the sarcastic humor you share...the sadness in your eyes that you don't.
You are peaks and valleys.
You are the philosopher.
You are the first man to make me feel beautiful...
and the first to break my heart.
You are a ghost who haunts me.
You are my father...my blind spot...my first love.