Wednesday, April 13, 2016


My father came back from China
With a second shadow. Mostly
It kept his first one company;
You hardly knew it was there by day
But late nights, after my mother died,
And only my father’s lamp burned
On all of Brokaw Road, it served
As company, telling my father
Of the lost Ming emperor and his cat.
Both shadows were at his funeral
But, though asked, neither spoke.

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