We Want a King

Well, Dad-- 

If old habits die hard,
you bear some blame 
when I take the bait, 
open my mouth,
and let hounds race
baying from my lips.

But tonight, it's mine.

I chased those hounds down
driving home in the dark,
as rain-slick shapes made me start.

Ten years today
since you were gone.
In blue-moon light,
I still send dogs barking, 
but there's no thrill to this hunt. 

What did we seek
past the gleam of sharp wit
and sharp words?
Each solid hit is empty 
if it lands on one you love.

Time and loss taught me 
what nothing else did.
Peel back pride, and
only love remains.

--  We miss you, still and until.