By Bill Glose
Fathers should never die
before they are grandfathers,
when sons most need
guidance, wisdom;
when, seeing through
parent’s eyes, their
world transforms
in the blink of birth
to one brighter than
a rainbow, sharper
than cut glass.
Fathers should never die
before their boys are men
who can fit but one
calloused finger
in the clasp of a tiny hand,
muscle and steel
softened by the velvet
of a baby’s crown.
Fathers should never die
before sons thank them
for life lessons, say
“I love you”
before a funeral
requires it, when
farewells flutter
like so many petals
down a hole
in the damp Earth.
Chesapeake Vision
By Bill Glose
When I stand on Tidewater’s marshy shore,
my back turned to the modern world,
it’s easy to pretend I am the first man
to set foot in this space, so faultless and pure.
Wind sighs through sawgrass, carries the scent
of salt and pine. Clouds tumble overhead,
bits of fluff that frolick through
an amber sky. The sun tucks into
the distant shore, its skyline natural,
free from progress. Day’s last light
turns rippling water into liquid gold
and streaks the sky with colors
I didn’t know existed.
I wonder if this is how John Smith felt
gazing across Chesapeake Bay for
the first time, standing on a spot
like this. If he could cast ahead
400 years and witness the impact
of civilization, would he still yearn
to tame the wilderness, to build
and colonize and conquer? Or
would he linger but one day
to marvel at the boundless beauty
before returning aship, setting sail
to leave this land unspoiled?
Cutting Hair
By Bill Glose
I sit still on a straight-backed chair
in the center of the kitchen,
a flowered sheet draped over my shoulders
fastened at my neck with a clothespin.
You nudge my neck forward,
fingers skimming my scalp,
tugging tufts of hair to equal lengths
while snipping scissors silence
echoes of last night’s argument.
It is always like this—you,
bridging sullen divides without words;
me, quietly accepting the grace of your touch,
thankful you can take that step.
I wish I could, too,
but I was never good
with scissors.