The Most
My most charming son—the one
who leaves messages that begin
Hey ma, it’s your baby boy--
has fallen head-over-heels in love
with his own two sons.
Over icy bottles of brew, late
one summer night, he says
I guess all Dads think their kids
are the most, well, everything.
We laugh, giggle actually, sputtering
spittles of ale onto the porch,
where we have been banished to behave
badly together.
The boys are safe in beds, sleeping
as fast as they grow. The other adults
are inside playing furious rounds of Hearts,
while we hold our own.
My most charming son—the one
who leaves messages that begin
Hey ma, it’s your baby boy--
has fallen head-over-heels in love
with his own two sons.
Over icy bottles of brew, late
one summer night, he says
I guess all Dads think their kids
are the most, well, everything.
We laugh, giggle actually, sputtering
spittles of ale onto the porch,
where we have been banished to behave
badly together.
The boys are safe in beds, sleeping
as fast as they grow. The other adults
are inside playing furious rounds of Hearts,
while we hold our own.
Swimming Lessons
-for Buddy
Florida panhandle,
that eddy within a stream of tannin-washed
backwaters, bitter and ferrous, lined with glabrous white quartz,
limestone and moonstone. And deep quarries, rope-entry
only, water so clear and cold you could see your toes
shrivel. Effortless bike rides on aimless sweaty
summer days, cheap wine packed in a ripped brown canvas rucksack.
Lost Lake is still on the map, but it’s not the same lake
I crossed, leaving old Sassafras on muddy sand, unbound
and water-shy. And that day I swam with sure breaststrokes,
you hidden in the pine-wrapped shore watching my body
do its work, steady and pliant,
and later, when we stopped at a barn junkyard
you bought a ceramic bowl, glazed with tiny red and purple
blossoms, a slightly chipped bargain, still bearing fruit
in my Seattle kitchen, miles, years, time-zones
(and something intangible, mislaid, prized for its absence)
away.
Risa Denenberg is an aging hippy currently living in Tacoma, WA. She earns her keep as a nurse practitioner and freelance medical writer. Recent poems have appeared online at Soundzine, Sein und Werden, Lily, and Escape into Life. Read more at Risaden: A Piece a Day