89 years after the best parts of me were born

All your 206 bones are neatly laid
six feet below the dead brown grass
and the stone that bears your name
your flesh is nearly gone now
eaten up by worms and other nasty things

There's an oak tree just behind
with roots working their way down
to caress your mandible for part of eternity
the fabric of the blue suit is rotting quietly
and I don't care at all

Even on your birthday, while I celebrate
with the last half of a lousy bottle of Shiraz,
it's the twinkle in your eye I miss
the way you laughed and the rasp
of smoke atop your gentle voice

So Happy Birthday Papa,
another year is gone since we were born
Happy Birthday to you,
i'll just cry a bit as I sing that song
and take a moment to remember
every day we shared.

Happy Birthday Papa
forgive me if I forget your bones
and the worms
and the rotting suit
while I eat a piece of cake
and love you loudly as I chew.

Happy birthday Papa
I Love you.