I remember when I was told.
Family in silence.
It’s not fair. The heartbeat of appliances still whining,
I focus on times I thought we’d grow old...
Clouds part with unexplained violence
And our faces begin to pour.
A hundred questions, a doubt
And what else? Footprint in a concrete driveway,
A spark-maker unlit watching seagulls soar
From the soft earth, noise drowned out.
A boy sleeps waiting to wake
To manhood. Creased cheeks quiver,
And what he gets instead are flowers.
Relics in person, I question the ache
That asks why we give rivers
And must move on, while they remain.
Held by the smooth arms of trees,
Swallowed by a blanket of grass.
I ask the plaque what I cannot my brain,
Logic replaced by glassy guarantees
I see right through. He will not rise.
Facing away from a marching sun,
A no longer marching son lies.