The Day I Lost My Father

I opened the cupboard and figured I’d make
pumpkin pancakes from a yellow box

When I cracked open the egg
the yolk fell into the laps of flour
and I remembered the day
he brought me to the Bronx Zoo

I wore a velvet red jacket
had a mushroom bowl haircut
made friends with a turtle
shied away from the bears

I knew even though he was with me,
he still wasn’t all there

When I measured the milk 3/4s to a cup
I thought of the night we went to IHOP
and how he barely touched his food
while I ate breakfast for dinner
and asked him not to leave me again

While I flipped the batter on the grill
I reminisced the week we spent in California
how he held my hand on the roller coaster
as we swooped from the sky
into the mouths of plastic dinosaurs

As I poured maple syrup and
buttered golden brown circles

I knew all I had left of my father
were pumpkin pancake memories.