INTRODUCE THEM

‘Jeff,’ she said,

‘introduce them,’

as if I should have known

what my role was in her shattered family

of broken people who one by one

showed up at our little house

and begged her to

take them in- 

I remember the Napa valley sunlight 

on the perfectly green grass, 

the orange stones of the Veterans hospital where

grandpa was dying.

‘He was kicked by a horse 

in World War One.’

A scene I played out in my mind

over and over

cannons exploding,

he dashes behind a horse, 

(something I already knew not to do,)

who kicked-

always kicked right here

in the stomach

with such a force that 40 years later 

would kill him. 

Years later she told me about his drinking-

his cruelties

kicked by a horse 

in World War I

In the stomach. was the least of it.

I took a step forward

I could see the rolls of lifesavers in

grandpa’s hand.

He got them at the gift store 

and gave them to me and my brother

Each one a different, wonderful shade of sugar 

when we held them up to the sun.

My Uncle David was slight

standing beside me,

his brother already a few years dead.

A shotgun in a car, parked under a eucalyptus tree.

Now Uncle David in a narrow grey sports coat, 

he got at Goodwill

a sallow fruit tree on the hospital grounds

barely the energy for his own ashen leaves.

What resolution anymore? 

David, who would take his own life 

within a few years,

‘accidental overdose’ they said.

A broken son of a broken man

Standing on either side of me.

‘Introduce them’, she motioned.

‘David,’ I said, ‘David,

This is your father.’