on Dumont Ave
my mother swooned
to Basie as
she rocked me
to sleep.
what song
did my father hum
on that Philippine highway
the day
a mortar shell
carried him
to oblivion?
I never knew my father, nor did he ever see me, except for photographs. I tend
to think that he had my picture in his wallet the day he was killed. If he was
indeed humming a tune, or at least hearing one in his mind, then that's where I
got my love of music. And everything else in my life. It must have come from him.
And now, my beautiful six-year-old daughter, Caroline is showing a talent for
music and dance and I know where that comes from. So, Daddy, you're still around,
after all.
-- Alan Wexler --
