Dueling With Dad

'It is a war son, stop
taking everything so lightly.'

The dementia spews mist that runs
interference with his vision, but he
does not miss the pieces, poised …
he blinks - in focus, he sees a battle
but life is blurred; he blinks –
in the foreground he sees warriors,
in the background, hope.

He is from another time - he believes
that what we celebrate speaks our religion -
if we play with a knife, we get cut,
if we play with acid, we get burned,
if we play with soldiers, we start a war.

He points to the pieces …
'rook, knight, bruised bishop,
queen, decrowned king;
boy, girl, wounded uncle,
mother, dead father.' He is worried
about what is hidden, beyond the board,
what is clear to him but blurred to us,
until we awake, and lose our hating.

'It is just a game dad, stop
taking everything so seriously.'