Tuesday, April 19, 2011

A Third Parentish Poem

At Three

He asks my wife
“Why daddy not here?”
when she takes him
to the park or school.
We see a grasp
of human need
and motive. Why,
we do not agree.

He does not know
why we work or play.
He does not know
people often move
cold to his whim.
In this delusion
we are one blood.

My wife starts the car
and pulls away.

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