Facts & Wonder
1. Saturdays in their kitchen,
my mother watering her cactus, my father
pulling out mozzarella and bread I have lost joy for.
The drowsy sadness on my father’s face whenever I didn’t want one.
Changing my mind was the gift. The day moved on sweeter.
2. The day one of you went missing, that February winter.
This is how you remember someone you love: Her calves
thick from practicing ballet. The rollers she wore at night
pulling them out from the original box. The Ponds regimen,
that gave your face sweet, grassy lanolin smell. We looked for you,
under all lights. Had I entered a church
before that?
3. I only knew one prayer.
4. And when it became quiet? A sky of apricot
clouds to which you would have raised your arms
for some sweetness. Did you notice the moon been fool?
Into the frozen lake?