In Dallas a father forgets
his son. It is 105 outside and the baby sleeps
in his car seat. It could happen to anyone.
Strategies and deals spark and flame.
How easy to drive to the usual spot,
park and set forth to claim the day.
His wife is the one who usually takes their son,
carries him, feels his tender weight
(Oh, how he’s grown), leaves him
(Sweet boy, he has learned to wave
with his dimpled hand).
The world smolders, sons are lost
to hate and habit. Some are forgotten,
(Heart’s treasure, darling one)
but when the domes collapse today
in St. Petersburg, it is their loss
that takes my heart with them
into the fiery rubble.
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