Charles Mahaffey
Poem
This is the portion which passed
from Father to Son
from God’s close watch. In South Dakota
they chased a fox
through wheezing trees. Son’s heart burst when
father shot the fox
and left it to rot.
Later, Son will disappoint him,
march, and skip the war. His
wife will scratch their car and never
repaint it.
Sometimes, even now,
Father sits in bars with others that remain.
He smiles down
when they tell tales
of how the ground started to swell
when things began to move out of hand,
towards the end.
Move like a mutt being hunted,
one of them says.