I’d rather be pushed down to the bottom
than to be that kind of man.
Year: 2021
Scouting
My first son became a son underwater. The summer after we lost him, I spent a lot of time swimming. Clouds would gather and part above me.
Milk Teeth
Before we start the walk home, he slaps a white envelope into my wife’s hands, legal sized, too big for the single incisor it holds. Dried flecks of blood from where it came out at the root, faint as a paint chip.