for my father

I watched you breathe

a breath at a time,

the day before you left.

I remembered the legends  you loved to tell

on the red clay you spun on your potter’s wheel.

Pegasus for my 15th birthday.

Smooth black paint

on a red baked amphora.

a winged horse,

the son of Poseidon,

god of the sea.

I wondered if when your breath stopped

you would be free

to fly

to see Mount Helicon

and at last

live high up in the night sky

among the constellations.

By J. Hamilton