Watching the Broncos

WATCHING THE BRONCOS

He would have been watching the Bronco's
play, once again,
if the shell of a man,
floundering in a side-railed bed,
was still my father.

Bronco souvenirs scattered all over the house,
He would have dressed in blue and orange;
had his cronies over to watch the big game.
Now he has no home,
resides in a place that stores "use to be's."

Oh, he would have toasted
the challenge of the game,
raised a glass in salute,
and cheered loudly and boldly.
He rarely utters even his gibberish anymore.

Like his memories,
the game will never be relived,
no touchdowns, no fumble recoveries,
no victory dance, no losers regrets,
no anything.

Only Hell, moving in slow motion,
eradicating the man I call Dad,
leaving a small smile on his face
when he gets to taste ice cream.

Bobbie Kilzer Gogain