my father named the sailboat after me (memoir poetry)

my father named the sailboat after me
the kathryn jo brought us 
to places, performed 
such graces to a soul craving
the pure freedom of wide open air
and churning salty sea

i hold this memory
as close as buttered toast
as i picture your wishing for me

a good night sleep when i suffered
those times when...i went down under
in mood, you'd say, "i can't take it away, 
but i can hold your hand.."

and how i felt guilty when i began
sleeping the night you passed:
but memories serve to mediate
the night with naught a fright

the hand i reach for in the night
is felt warmly in the pocket
of the japanese kimona

you would wear to take coffee
on the terrace, 
still smelling of moth balls

i wear it with wonder,
it's true, the length is perfect
and colors of bold bluejay blue
and spring cloud white

mimic the sailboat we'd sail
together, without need to speak,
and just take in all the splendor
of a summer afternoon

the northport harbor you said
was as beautiful as any port
in all the countries you ever visited

and your saying that
in the long island slipping sun
ferrying back to the dock 

always brightened both
of our pairs of bright
grey green eyes:

a coming back
to the forever
home of sailing peace

the green lined harbor park,
and pinkness of sunset wrapping
all the nectar of love
any daughter would ever want

the sun drifting, but remaining
always brightening --how I see you
in my eyes---and now...
how joy sighs gratefully

~kate lamberg (c) '17