I've seen fish swim underwater
and turtle heads peek over
and smelled leaf mildew
under blue tarp's dew.

I've sat watching my mother
knitting-in-the-round
as she watched TV
buxom and warm
(whose warm embraces)
won and lost my father
who accepted having children - not his (or hers)
raised them, fed them, sent them to school
and in the end
left.

I listened to punk
and tried to drum to it
then watched TV
and slept on the couch
and woke in a sweat
and kept my head down
and fell into bed.

just like my dad
who ate with us
then drank enough to fall asleep
sitting in his La-Z-boy
head bent to chin
half smoked cigar, half ash, half a glass  

someone who knows him
can't explain.

I love my wife
and see her
and really see who she is
who when her father died
my friend too
knowing his soul was alive
placed the phone by his side
for me to say goodbye

and that was really the kindest
thing a person could do - has done
it is her love that saves me.

and in the wing
and on the shore
and in the plains
where Indians store
the living pines as tall as mine
lifting birches - children's lashes
lay running away
towards me in the dark.