Retiring

Dad Looks Calmer in Phoenix

Got a photo of my father, and nothing else, from Candy, in the mail yesterday. He's sitting up
in his leather recliner as if she propped him up there for the photo. He's near a
wall table with a small reading lamp and many cups on it; an iron with
its cord all askew is visible beneath it. It's a straight-on photo.
His belly, which must be bloated with the passage of time,
appears flatter, and his legs, which are dangling so
his Khakis have ridden up over his sneaks and
white socks so his sapling-thin shins are
exposed, look like they may be short
twigs under those pantlegs. Still,
he's tan, his silver wig well-
combed, with very few trou-
ble lines around that gold-
en clenched jaw.