LAMENT FOR AN ABSENT FATHER
Stephanie Oda
In the kitchen,
Mama danced a tango
Wireless throbbed a Latin tune,
Little brother in her arms,
Laughing,
Me and sister at the table
Eating lard-fried eggs,
Outside
Popping buds, fizzing sun,
First day of summer,
Last day of school.
In the morning,
Mama read the letter,
Kettle keened a wailing song
Little brother at her feet,
Cooing,
Me and sister at her side
Eating stone for bread,
Outside
Drying sheaves, fleecing trees,
First day of mourning,
Last day of youth.
In his kitchen,
I cooked him eggs in milk,
Spooned him like a small sick bird,
Years have blown like down in wind,
Little brother’s home to earth,
Resting,
I didn’t know, he said,
Oh, I didn’t know,
How little girls need Daddies.
Outside
Frosting grass, hoary spires
Last words repining
New day of grief.
