
“Donuts with Dads” at Currey Ingram



she only played
mozart, on chickering
flat tusks, ebony
keys, her fingers
pressing sound into
air, while my
head on pillow
rested for sonata
slumber, this childhood
memory of time
gone by, as
if anything really
leaves this universe
empty spaces left
to be filled
again and again
floating on his back
my son in river
water, glistening hair touches
sunlight, azure sky, cloud
reflection, i imagine him
alive forever, held in
nature’s undulating womb

He will be 10 next month, but he is already wearing a size 9 men’s shoe!