Tuesday, July 19, 2016


There is a lot of clothing in that
satchel you carry  -  I can only 
wonder, then, where you are
going. Out to the west, that 
thick light is only sunset.
I remembered your father just
today : My father and him were
fishing buddies, yet I think that
between them they probably caught
but two fish a year. All that
deep-sea driving, with
so little to show.
The last time I saw your father, he
was smoking one of his big cigars
down by the piers. He was alone,
and we were waiting for something
together, but I forget what it was.

No comments: