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?