She entered the Burger King with a cardboard box three quarters full of sticky red candy apples. Going from table to table she offered her wares. I, like everyone else, declined. I wish I hadn’t.
Burgandy glaze
drape red delicious
caramel eyes
penetrate cafe bar-
rios baptize
white-capped guilt into
Dios’ grande grays
Husband. Father. Grandfather. Pilot. Pastor. Poet.
2 responses so far ↓
real live preacher // Sep 17, 2007 at 9:28 pm
Oh, this one is nice papa poet. I know this kind of regret.
Mark Goodyear // Sep 18, 2007 at 1:43 pm
I love that line break at “bar-/rios baptize.” The language play just makes me happy. But that is all about the form. The poem itself is heartbreaking.
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