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Map of Minds

Brian C. Miller

Dad dropped me off at the Gap parking lot
because I never had a car in college.
I grabbed my brown backpack,
and headed to the student center to study
with a thick book and a highlighter.
Classes consisted of notetaking
and sometimes a class and study break.
My dad was proud of me
as he never went to college.
I discussed life with my new friends
while drinking coffee in the coffee shop.
I learned how to conjugate Spanish verbs
and crafted poems about love and life
until I graduated from Penn State.
These images resonate in my brain
just like the trees reflecting on the pond.
As the years blended together,
my dad’s memory started to fade.
He can’t drive or cook anymore.
He forgets his birthday,
and sometimes he forgets who I am.
But I remember the sound of dad’s car door,
and reflect back to easier days of learning:
Dad picked me up at the Gap parking lot.

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