I step into the hot tub
Slip into three sidestroke laps in the pool
Enter the sauna and steam room
Fall into my father
He has been dead a decade or more
I visit his grave once a year
At the funeral he forgave to me for all of his bitterness
I talk to him even today
–Enrique who married my sister
The spray nozzles in the hot tub are heavy
The Olympic sized pool too long
The sauna not hot enough
The steam room too hot
I slip into my father
You know he died in a laundry room
Alone
He tried to get back into his chair
I went everywhere with him
I was like his son
—Enrique who married my sister
The hot tub is busy with complaining
The pool busy with churning waters
The sauna white
The steam room gray
There is my father.
| Copyright © 2019 by Michael H. Brownstein Michael H. Brownstein’s latest volume of poetry, A Slipknot Into Somewhere Else, was published by Cholla Needles Press in 2018. |
This one makes me cock my head sideways a little, like a hound dog who's not sure what it has heard. I think, no, I'm sure, I heard that right.
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