& i forgive

all the times you drove by our child, our house,
deserted with broken fences, cracked windows, all
the million jobs left undone, you in a such a rush
to adolescence because you missed it the first time around –
rock band rehearsal, & Sheeva, & hockey (sorry about that broken
ankle, but you never were much of a skater. but taking up hockey
at 46??? still, I said “of course
I’ll take on all your driving duties

because even after you fired me, I was in the habit of wife,
& i forgive that too).

& I forgive that the child would see your car
and crying ask, “why
doesn’t he want to eat dinner with me?”

but I could only turn my head from the route
you chose, wondering, wasn’t there another way
you could have driven that day?


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