The Happiest Man on Earth


“I wish I would have been here..”
I’d say with a grin on my face.
“You were here.” He’d say, with a grin on his.
He talked about the trees. The maple in his. The way the tips changed color, not a minute before September 17th, and they kept on changing.
And he remembered us.
My brothers and me.
The sandbox he built.
The shed he built atop it.
The septic pipeline he saw before us. The same one that showed itself every fall after.
We spoke about it many times.
His mother he called every night since my age was his. 28.
I think about how I’d handle it.
The forgotten man.
I’d live in his basement for years after.
The father, black and white as I am now.. but we share no blood.
He spoke of the trees
A time or two.
As if I were a stranger.
Only waiting to hear more
But I told him I couldn’t.
Though I relied on him more and more.

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