—ALL AROUND ME ARE FAMILIAR FACES

                        Flowers for My Father

  

You were either a prairie bursting clouds or a dark room overrun with sharp objects none of us could avoid.  You made the dirt tremble.  Days and nights, your boxcutter breath warped the sun with its black magic, yet the moon never shone.  One way or another, everyone danced for you.

But just yesterday I watched a heron devour a lion.  Don’t believe me?  The photo is sitting on my sill, right there next to your ashes and a flower for every day you said you loved us.