by Rick Black (Arlington, VA)
At Dunkin’ Donuts,
I sip my coffee, bite into a chocolate-
frosted donut and mull over your fate.
Would you like a taste, Isaac?
I know: everything falls this time of year–
acorns, leaves, even knives
fall by accident,
Tell me, Isaac, you can confide in me,
“What really happened that day?”
If only you were not so
A survivor, you figure no one
would believe you. You’re probably right.
Your father, a knife, a ram–
Everything falls this time of year–
spiky chestnuts, ripening apples
even knives fall by accident,
Rick Black is a prize-winning poet and former journalist who creates hand-crafted books at Turtle Light Press in Arlington, VA. You can see his work at http://www.turtlelightpress.com/
This poem was reprinted with permission of the author. It first appeared in U.S. 1 Worksheets, (Vol. 56), U.S. 1 Poets’ Cooperative, Princeton, NJ. (http://us1poets.com)