Tiempo Profundo
to my son, Tito
A handful of sand in the angel's palm,
how often you strummed and sifted the metaphor
of Long Beach (since you were four and rolled
and unrolled and jotted down the specks of time
as if you knew what was behind the flimsy skies
that threw your quantum song asunder).
Copyright © Roxane Aristy | Year Posted 2019