BITS
AND PIECES III
Not to be left out of our conversation
the child injects, Something is following me.
Well now! Oh oh, D's thinking.
Here we go; this is not useful.He's right of course.
I say, What is it?
The child's flat reply: An angel.Over D's silent objection I ask,
Is it scary or nice?
The child's look tells me I'm the parent
I so resented-always lurking in the hall
or at breakfast, ready to pounce, to, you
know,
Get it out of you before you what, for
godssake, died?!?
He's doing this more calmly, nicely, than I
used to.
I look down at the scraps of food on my plate
and remember the smell of burning leaves.
