You’re no fun,
they told me

I couldn’t help but picture
myself hanging upside down
on a tree branch

laughing

marching
up the hillside
in search of wildflowers
and fungi singing one of my
favorite songs

Dear Prudence

You’re no fun,
they told me

I couldn’t help but picture
Dad’s obituary, which I wrote
a few short months ago,
and likened
him to Christ
and got his age wrong

(I wrote sixty, but Dad
was only fifty-nine)

He never got a Senior Discount
…he would have loved that

You’re no fun,
they told me

I couldn’t help but picture
Dad howling under the fullmoon
just because
or steering our kayak through the
whitewater, kid me in the front,
or us meditating together at sunset
just thankful for the grace of another day

You’re no fun,
they told me

And I laughed