Dad Bag

I carried a portion of my father
out to the island
because it is a place he knew
and loved well.

He would sit at the bay
so I opened the bag
and dropped a little on the bench
where he liked to sit.

I walked to the spot
where we studied sunsets
and salted the cement
with the ashes I held.

I delivered him to the library
the beach and other areas
he had appreciated
in more active times

and then brought the dad bag
to the dock
which first received me
and let the rest of him fall,
scattered by the bay
which had delivered all of us
at one time
to the island.

About Jonathan Berger

I used to write quite a bit more.
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