as a child i
sat on a towel on the fire escape
one summer night
several years ago
with my father
it was dark
and i thought no one could
see us
but someone could
he gave us the finger
from
the sidewalk
and
my father didn't notice
he was rambling on
about india
and his hopes
and things i can't remember
now that i have on
the mangled glasses of time
sometimes
i see now
what
he felt then
and sometimes
i still don't know