About Things by Robert Parham

The poached pear so real
that it dissolves its normal sand
and melts on the spoon in your mouth;

love old enough it begs smiles
from those older than ourselves,
love that was the ocean, now dew;

grey muzzled dog who plays and romps
and sleeps as long as I, his faith
like my father’s…dogs die young;

river fog in morning in the sun
pretending to make weather
but only concealing a water’s movement;

daughter and son and thumping heart,
necessary, never good at distances,
fog, river, fruit, river.

Robert Parham