Living with a Ghost
Four years ago to the day. September moving the season dial along as light goes gold too early. It’s like fall knows something the rest of the year hasn’t figured out yet. I sit in the stillness of the morning and sip my coffee. Me, the steam from my mug, the what-if wondering out the…
Sitting on a Sill
You’re eating a pancake on the windowsill, looking like you’ve been caught doing something wrong. Knees pulled up, feet turned in, hair curling every direction like it always does after a nap. There was something different about you that just said, “I’m a kid, I’m not your little baby anymore.” People told me this was…
35. Mature. Father. (Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad)
Every Tuesday before the overnight, Captain Ralph packed us into the dining hall for Leaders’ Huddle and said some version of the same thing, like he assumed we’d all forgotten it since last Tuesday, which, in fairness, some of us had. We were expected to show up as “35 year old mature fathers.” Thirty-five, because…
Full Weight
His full weight is on my head right now. Not the usual squirm-and-point, not the shouting and leaning over to check my face every ten seconds. He’s just dead weight, slumped against me like I’m a piece of furniture. He’s worn out. And so, apparently, am I. Most days up on my shoulders he’s a…
Into a Headwind
The headwind never let up. Not a gust here and there, not some squall that blew through and passed. It leaned against us the whole way out. A headwind slows you down and keeps you from getting where you want to go. My wife sat up front. Our son was tucked in the bow ahead…
Shoes to Fill
You found my boots by the door the other day. My big boots, the ones without laces because I had just finished cleaning them for another season at camp. You climbed in before I could stop you, both feet swallowed whole, and stood there grinning up at me like you’d done something amazing. “Dada!” You…
Can’t Wait to be Your Friend
Today we went down the slide together. You didn’t hesitate or overthink or test the edge with one foot. You just went with reckless abandon.You’re fearless in a way I used to be and want to be again. I watch you climb up things too big, run toward things too fast, and trust my arms…
It’s Not Your Birthday Cake
When you realize the birthday cake is for Jesus and not you… The singing hadn’t even finished. The cake was still intact. And my son was already done with his head on the table, and arms folded in. No drama… just pure, honest exhaustion. I keep coming back to this photo because it feels familiar…
I Saw God on the Train
This poem shares its title with a piece by Lucas Jones, whose work first sparked the idea. While Jones’s original inspired the premise — a chance encounter with God on a train — I’ve rewritten it entirely from the ground up. Where the original takes its own path, this version is grounded in a distinctly…
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