Stephen Vincent wrote:
>So moving, Liz.
>
>
Indeed.
Like I didn't do enough for one day....
OILCOLOR
(theft of metaphor via Anne Sexton)
Drive him up to Massachusetts
for soccer camp
college for him a week early.
The background (we both know)
cannot be scraped down or washed
it is no watercolor
it is oils, indelible
his parents' collapsing marriage
freshman year his escape.
Jake also is an oil color, bright
on a dark grounding
in early ugliness
that truth always is.
Our first to leave,
bequeathed colors of strength,
hard varnish,
a chiaroscuro.
The Prodigal Father wants to kneel
before the Son and ask his forgiveness.
Yet it is time for me to go.
"Well..." I say.
"No," he says, "don't go
getting all emotional on me,
Mom will be here next weekend,
you can both go nuts then."
Of course he is right:
get in the car, get out of here
before we both come apart,
do the deadhead down I-95
in and out of radio silence.
Something has forever changed,
never can go back.
One thing of many.
Ken/2-2-05
--
Kenneth Wolman
Proposal Development Department
Room SW334
Sarnoff Corporation
609-734-2538
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