quite a way to start a poem

yesterday I went to the dentist

quite a way to start a poem

about my dad

who passed today

On the train I fell asleep

reading to distract myself

from wondering what if

I had arrived yesterday

and held his hand

That was what I imagined

When I get to the house

I will look

for his baseball glove

it’s from another time

just a thick, leather hand

with an inch of webbing

joining thumb and index

With a old glove like that

you catch the ball

in your palm

there’s no net

you have to play it

exactly right

like he wanted;

everything perfect,

including my teeth

glowing after the dentist

strong like a wild animal

He was particular

about how I chewed

and taught me to throw

elbow in

with a skip step

after a ground ball

I’m almost there now

The train emptied at Stamford

I woke up in Bridgeport

for a moment feeling

only the smooth backs

of my bottom teeth

with my tongue