for mark


tonight emotions rushes
over me
and nullifies years
of anticipation
my father
is in sweden
which is spreading ourselves
a little thing
my son
pokes through garbage
old clothes
basements
and we talk
matter-of-factly
about me leaving for california
in two weeks
a journey for the soul
not for the body
a gesture against the
monotony of the days
moving from my past
but
in the end
simply my son here
and me
a continent west
this is what i must live with
test my nerve with
measure my love
with
a little boy
a grown man
holding
hands
our bridge built


~kent taylor

easter – 1971


the world looks toward
the sun
and takes stock
our lives shorten
like trains
my memory isn’t so good
my father has a bad back
two thousand miles away
worst of all are the days
that slip by without
notice
uncounted days
that soon collect like trash
suddenly too heavy to move
you find yourself
living with someone you
thought had been taken away
the past grows up around
us
blocking the light
today is warm air
blowing the curtains
like desperation


~kent taylor