You left a note on your wall
in between the posters
of your heroes, scribbled
in smudged permanent ink,
knowing we’d leave the room
the same as the day you left
it. You compared yourself
to all earthly things – the sun
as an emblem, the moon
as a reflection, equal parts
light and shadow. “This
is how I am in all things,”
you said, and compared your
change to a river, an endless
beginning of new waters –
the truth in natural beauty.
You were beautiful, my son,
more than the day I met you,
more than the multitude
of things that exist, more
than the world that unfolds
around us without you here.
“To create,” you said,
“simply dream and act,”
and that’s exactly
what I did when we
created you.
David R. DiSarro is currently an Associate Professor of English at Endicott College in Beverly, MA. His work has previously appeared, or is forthcoming, in Neologism Poetry Journal, ANTAE: A Journal of Creative Writing, Anti-Heroin Chic, Second Chance Lit, The Wilderness House Literary Review, The Hawaii Pacific Review, among others. David's first chapbook, I Used to Play in Bands, was published by Finishing Line Press. He currently lives on the North Shore of Massachusetts with his wife, Riley, five children, and two rambunctious dogs.