Palinode VI

Palinode VI


I knew we lost
you when you

flew to England,
but the loss

hit me
like a plane crash

when we stood
on the college lawn—

you in your
graduation garb,

explaining we
would have been

bored by the Latin
ceremony—

and had the photograph
of my wreck

taken. Perhaps
the fall

began when I quit
school at nine,

but at that age
how was I

supposed to know
I would have a son

who would fly
so close,

so dangerously close,
to the sun?


Image credit: Daily Mail/ Robert Judges/ Rex_Shutterstock

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