2015-06-15T23:15:35-04:00June 15th, 2015|Parenthood|

The man who got our envelopes

Each day is a fleeting stack
of moments
that replaces itself
like a card trick

the way my son
asked his dad tonight
if those scoundrels
were still bugging him

and how his little sister
blows kisses
at trees

that he asks me
to fill him up
with good thoughts
so that no bad dreams
can get in

and how she says no
all twangy
like a Bjork song

I see now
how my mother
must have felt

sliding photos of me
into envelopes
that she let me drop
into the mailbox

never a note
but the message was clear

how can you bear
all that you have missed.