your Colorado village was freezing,
even the eve of May
the bus dropped me there
you weren't waiting
I toted my duffel bag, now turned sixty,
to your place
you didn't answer for an hour; when you did,
it was not sleep in your eyes
we didn't fight--it was too cold in your apartment
for heated arguments
you didn't bother to say you were busy, or forgot
your father's only son had agreed to this visit
you had only stale bread, stingy swirls of peanut butter
in a cold jar
you left with a promise to get food,
and my last seven dollars
I waited for you until dusk, then dragged my bag
to a locked church
I put an extra ancient sweater under my coat, leaned
against the chapel's small west wall
I watched the sky turn from mauve to black,
until I fell asleep
and dreamed of a time I carried you on my shoulders,
under a warm sun
Feb 27, 2016
Feb 27, 2016 at 4:41 PM UTC
your Colorado village was freezing,
even the eve of May
the bus dropped me there
you weren't waiting
I toted my duffel bag, now turned sixty,
to your place
you didn't answer for an hour; when you did,
it was not sleep in your eyes
we didn't fight--it was too cold in your apartment
for heated arguments
you didn't bother to say you were busy, or forgot
your father's only son had agreed to this visit
you had only stale bread, stingy swirls of peanut butter
in a cold jar
you left with a promise to get food,
and my last seven dollars
I waited for you until dusk, then dragged my bag
to a locked church
I put an extra ancient sweater under my coat, leaned
against the chapel's small west wall
I watched the sky turn from mauve to black,
until I fell asleep
and dreamed of a time I carried you on my shoulders,
under a warm sun
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