His Memory
“Sister Mary will see you now.”
The old woman leaves the room
and Jeannette glides in
her face as quiet as her walk.
“I asked to see you,” he says
“because I have bad dreams.
I see you again when I knew you.
I didn’t like your father’s hand
on your shoulder like that
the look in your eyes. I was so small
I didn’t know what to do
but it troubled me. Now, sometimes
I can’t sleep.
That image won’t go away.”
“My father is dead,” she says,
her eyes glowing.
“Thank you for coming.”
Leslie Gerber 11/22/05