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Inevitable



It is inevitable that when someone says father
I think of my father,
when someone says mother
I think of my mother,
and so on.
But when they refer to themselves
I don't think of myself,
though I am always thinking of myself.

Like now, when I am recalling
eating a colorful parfait in a tiny cold shop
in Los BaƱos in the Philippines,
alone, twelve, in 1979,
wondering what the rest of my life would be like
and getting it so very wrong.

All poems are written and copyrighted by Michael C. Rush.
None may be republished or repurposed without permission.