* * * * *
From Dad
by Sally Benzon
William Benzon
(1912 – 1998)
Clinging to light
By weeping tears
Charged with this silence
Only sorrow can receive:
Whispered heights of trees
Sway the breathless memory
Out of nowhere,
From the airs of body
You walk at once alone,
And beside us: Not that we are
Asked by a flock of birds
Who insist on behalf
Of one shy authority,
“Part our days together
To a different branch. Larry, Sally,
Sing to laugh around the world
With me!” Tiding this canopy,
You are the man whose voice outlives
Agreeable disbelief
Into our inhabited green
Hundreds of leaves, golf balls, too
And leaves growing! . . .
Round of arms’ reach
The echo of echoed wings
Reveals the merry chance
Now a sunbeaming glow:
Chimes to sound
The melody of you.
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