Predicting Your Presence

A Father's Day Poem written 07/22/2026

Image by Larisa Koshkina from Pixabay

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Predicting Your Presence
07/22/2026
David C. Roberson

Well, that was weird.
I pulled onto your lawn,
and thought, “Wow, Dad’s let
the grass get kinda long.”
And I felt the shift,
from predictive brain drift,
and I sighed.

I hugged my mom,
my sisters and aunt,
greeted my brother,
a gift card in hand.
Bent down to say hi
to the kids, dog and Gran–
Where were you?

God, that’s so strange.
I saw movement outside,
and thought, “Oh, Dad’s here.”
But you never arrived.
Predictive brain’s 
past patterns persist
since you died.

First Father’s Day
without my dad in tow.
A month has gone by,
but my grief seems to grow.
I’m still predicting 
your presence though you
never show.

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