Reaching back with a teaspoon I pulled a memory from my pudding head.
My father wasn’t there, absent like the empty space in a bowl.
Memories of him eaten away like a bowl of cheerios, without the cheer,
mostly disappointed ohs.
I went back for seconds to make sure and sure enough,
there where no Cheerios, Lucky Charms or Captain Crunch,
there was only the emptiness of a concave container – My father.