HIS FATHER
The trooper
on the doorstep caught
her still in her pajamas
and all that mattered instantly
was having their son with her
Holding David to her
before he got to the school yard
where a teacher would have heard
If she had turned further to the left
she would have grabbed a sweater
and not taken her bathrobe off the hook
not worn its peppermint laughter
the flush of tears burning to her jaw
as she pedaled with the traffic
sorting through the children
as they went streaming over sidewalks
till she saw their boy on Kenting Road
saw his yellow sweatshirt
and wanting to compress the space
stretched like a grave between them
she coasted up the curb then braked
and dropped her bike before him
His face twisting with surprise
his mouth a drawbridge falling
made her wish she could hit rewind
and erase the entire morning
for she knew now he would always wear
this Christmas candy bathrobe
and these words like bullets behind her teeth
that she couldn't swallow down