A Gift

By | 1 December 2013

for A.C.S.

And when the gulls dropped down within a long arm’s reach
we tossed broken Twinkies stuffed hurriedly by small hands
high into the air. The gulls swooped up, catching thick pieces
in their beaks, swallowing whole what may have been a femur
or a tibia or a rib burned down into fine wine dust, a few little
chunks, but mostly dust. My nine-year-old daughter beside me
stuffing more Twinkies, laughing at this adventure—grandpa
loved those Twinkies
. She grasps this gift in her pint-size fist,
eyes expectant; oh the patience she held waiting minute upon
minute for the right moment to toss up and watch the swirling,
the squawking—a crescendo carrying him higher and higher

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