his favorite fruit

Arriving over night, I brought home a ripe kiwi for my dad.
After slicing into the green flesh and spooning a few pieces of kiwi into this mouth,
he smiled and said it tasted like his favorite fruit.
My lovely father hasn't had his favorite fruit in so long
he'd forgotten what it tasted like.

After 20+ years of working on his feet,
I think it's about time the old man got to back to the islands.
I wish I could fly him back.
Damn.