170

Papa came in from outside
            And lit the standard lamp
                        And his head beneath it was
An orb shining in a wreath
            Of his hard white hair,
                        And his red neck was a damp
Ridge as he stood beneath the
            Lamp and reached down to
                        The newspaper and traced over
Its surface with his fingers.
            He picked it up and coughed
                        And went to the kitchen and
I could hear his deliberate
            Movements and the crack and hiss
                        As he opened a bottle of beer.
He came back in without looking
            At me and sat and then he said
                        Dewey be quiet when you do go up.
Ma is asleep now.
            And I said okay, and he
                        Looked at me for a second.
His eyes seemed to have
            Dropped into his lower lids
                        As if they were weighted inside,
And his mouth was like a piece
            Of cut meat. I looked back
                        At him and he drank his beer
And then it seemed as if he just
            Stared into the wall and then into
                        The ceiling for a very long time.