Father’s Day

Oh, young father! The beer hasn’t caught up with your gut just yet and your best smoking years are right ahead of you. Your wife still bears the luggage of your daughter’s arrival along her midriff and her floppy hat waves goodbye to the life you both knew. My three...

Remember

Emerging from a world which had consumed me, you—nameless but familiar—showed up with your own offspring. They tugged at your arms as you set them up for entertainment in front of their monitors. You were frustrated by their capricious desires. And yet you still...

Your son

When your son reached across my hot plate and speared his fork into my hash browns, I fought the primal urge to stab my fork into his grubby little paw.

Summer Girl

I never knew her name But I loved her Because when she ascended from the water Her long brown hair clung To the back of her neck And her one-piece swimsuit. She lived behind freckles And her brown eyes Never met mine. The giant concrete pond teemed With kids –...

Your father, revisited

This past summer I wrote this poem “Your Father.” Something’s being bothering me about it ever since then, but I haven’t been able to put my finger on it. Last night I realized it needed a second stanza to complete it. So here’s the new...

Committal

Through the glass he stared into the garden as the ashes were buried beneath the stepping stone. In the reflection she held onto the baby as its eyes were fluttering against her bare shoulder.