AWED BOY

 

Twigs I’ve gathered,
pebbles too—they tell me things
about Mother.  I touch them where

they’re bumpy or rough.  I look
where the color changes, look at the cracks.
That way I get close to the answers.

Have you noticed when you really
stare at something there’s a smell?
You need to move, take two or three

big steps, and the deep stuff will be revealed.
I can see Dad wasn’t always so good to her,
but I know he got an odor more than once.

You can almost forgive.