from https://www.joecookeauthor.com/short-stories/askme

My father simply spills out of my mouth from time to time, causing me great embarrassment.

I hadn’t seen Dan in twenty years, and he had barely changed in all that time, while I have gone from a robust forty-something to a bald old version of Joe Sr., who, in fact, died just a few years ago with a full head of wavy white hair.

I said to Dan, “You haven’t changed a bit!”

And then the ghost of my father piped in, “Because you were an old guy when I met you!”

I could have crawled under the table and died.

Ask Me
a Poem by William Stafford
https://shenandoahliterary.org/blog/2012/01/ask-me-by-william-stafford/