badass
like the explosion,
that first chomp into a Macintosh appletender
as a finger flick
on a blossom of birdsfoot trefoilyou plied me with potato chips
to scratch your back
while we watched Gunsmoke
you liked Miss Kittyand also Miss America
Burt Parks’ Here She Comes
you cried a littleNov. 22, 1963
early home
I found you bawling
on your bed
my breath caught
heart pounded
how you took it so personallybroken and abject,
how could you have known
of my imprinting:
ah. this.
now I see.but dad,
midlife was as far as you could get
from Italy
before that young man’s war
caught up with you
upended your calm
your claim to happiness
the marriage frayed, then
cancer found you
and you were doneso much knowing went unknown
after Feb. 4, 1975
so mean, the way the world went on
without you
I was stunned by it, thinking
I belonged much more to you
than to the world