April

A prose poem

My dad and I at Point Reyes National Seashore, 1991

My father died on April 25, 2009. Because I work for myself, I was able to spend several weeks with my mom and dad before he died. It was a hard time but also a sweet time. “April”¹ captures some of those moments.

---

April

I want to write my father back. Each molecule and moment. I want the afternoons I spent alone with him at the nursing home, when my mother left to run an errand, and I ensconced myself in the sliding rocker where she’d been sitting, between my father’s bed and the window, looking out into the courtyard of cherry trees and dogwood. On the window sill were two photos: one of my brothers and me, on a Sunday morning four years ago, our faces clear in the fall light; the other a black and white of our parents in Paris—seen from a lower vantage point, they appear larger than the Eiffel Tower behind them.

I want April back and those afternoons when I warmed my lap with the shawl the women from their church had knitted for my father, praying, the card said, with each stitch for healing. I read a book as my father napped and then I set it aside to hold his hand, listening to the hushed sounds of our breath, before closing my eyes to sleep.

---

My friend and fellow poet

Cathryn Shea

’s book Ghost Matinee was just released this week from

Unsolicited Press

. It’s an extraordinary, courageous book of poems with a wry sense of humor. I highly recommend it. And as it’s National Poetry Month, it’s a great time to add to your poetry library. You can get her book and mine from Unsolicited Press, Bookshop.org, or Amazon.

Thank you so much for stopping by to read some poetry.

1. “April” was originally published in MacQueen’s Quinterly, Issue 23, April 28, 2024, http://www.macqueensquinterly.com/MacQ23/Pickrell-April.aspx.