Today, I’m taking my father
for more tests, his eyes
failing even as we walk
out into the knee deep drifts.
Like his father before,
he takes two shovels from their hooks,
the particles of his hands
sewn somewhere in mine,
so much of him
silent in me as we walk
the bright hemorrhage of white.
He starts at one end,
I start the other, each scoop
unmaking the snow, which has taken
over porches, stoops, skeletal trees
hedging the road. Soon,
he won’t be able to make out the handle
he’s gripping. We don’t speak,
piling the crude heaps,
first him, then me, the black
grammar of railroad ties
announcing the perimeter.
The weatherman calls for more–
seven inches by nightfall–
but the old Chevy rattles
as I rev the engine,
my father leaning to scrape
the windshield clear of ice
until he’s certain I can see.
2017
Regular
Contemporary
2020
Disability
Doubt & Fear
Family
Health & Illness
Alliteration
the repetition of the same letter or sound at the beginning of words appearing in succession
Assonance
The repetition of similar vowel sounds that takes place in two or more words in proximity to each other within a line; usually refers to the repetition of internal vowel sounds in words that do not end the same.
Enjambment
a line break interrupting the middle of a phrase which continues on to the next line