would have been
his birthday, 2
days after New Year’s,
the day of the blizzard
named for the Greek hero,
his 12 labors
of redemption,
1 year after
the divorce, 10 years
since the affair, 3
years since we’ve
spoken, 3 years
since the first poem
and there have been
poems and will be
poems but no
father, today, of the 52
would-be birthday
candles, after 3
trips to the hospital,
5 stitches in the
chest, 1 heartbeat
gone dumb, 1 hearse,
3 limos, 52
roses for the grave,
no cake, no
celebration, but candles,
52 candles, these
52 small fires, 1
body, 1 wooden
box: kindling.
from ErouFind more by Maya Phillips at the library
Copyright © 2019 Maya Phillips
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Four Way Books.