Tribute to my Pobby (grandpa)
This, long after he grew tired of being young and full of running.
This, long after sweeping away the ashes from tables he set and torched.
This, long after he broke from desire when it went back on what he believed.
This, long after he silenced his screaming. Then learned to breathe.
He remarried, sketched his wife nude: swinging hair and hips, hand covering
her breast. Looking toward the Big Lake one early August morning in the 1970s
when the sun rose high in the sky, and his love for her was a landscape.