The brief poems of today’s column were written by Edward Nobles of Bangor about his father, who abandoned Nobles’ family. The absence his father left behind was “silent and ominous,” Nobles says, adding: “These two poems are aftershocks.”
Sentences
The sledgehammer cracks
like my father’s heavy shouts
until the stone starts to break.
The sound then is different.
Only a thumb’s touch is needed.
The division is final.
Where He Went
My father gave up
wife children friends
dog car house every
worldly possession
traveling
far into a strange
space bottles
rotating shuffling clinking
searching vaguely for a genie
poof!
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