It was my fathers birthday
yesterday. I spent it with
my fiancé, homemade
beef stew, and alcohol.
I sported my torn grey
sweatpants and a college
sweatshirt from a college
I never attended.
I drank three glasses of
white wine. He liked it.
He loved autumn. It was his
favorite season. He wore his
dark jeans and sweaters, was
never caught without a coffee,
and wore a wool coat.
Sometimes I drink it black, to try
and be like him, but it finds its
way to milk. I even kept his mug.
This birthday reminded everyone
of what April Fools now means to us.
For me, it’s a reminder that my favorite
Baseball cap is still in the passenger seat
of his car.