Mark Halliday: "Summer Planning"

My father and I on the sofa talked about summer plans,

would he drive from New York to Ohio?

It seemed doubtful (he was eighty-six)

and he said We'll see what comes to pass.

For a minute we were silent.

He said, That's an interesting idiom, isn't it.

To come to pass. "It came to pass."

There's a feeling of both coming and going

at the same time.

Yeah, I said. I wondered what movie we might see.

He said, It's quite different to say "It happened"—

that sounds like a stop, like a fixed point.

But "It came to pass"—there's almost a feeling of

"It came in order to pass."

Yeah, I said, that's right.

He said, You get a sense of the transience of everything.

Yes, I said.

Cleo the black cat lay snoozing across my father's legs.

My father stroked her gently.

I finished my raspberry iced tea.

"Summer Planning" by Mark Halliday, from Jab. © University of Chicago Press, 2002.  

Art credit: Detail from untitled photograph by kimeveruss.