Portrait of My Father Drowning

in the type of love he deserves; nestled
in his lap, a young me is learning
how to swim. I flounder in
water that is only knee-deep,

while, fully-dressed on the pool’s
edge, my mother records
the lesson. Blood will always
be outweighed by the body

of water it wades into. Earth,
itself, I realize, is just a body
of waters. Years later, I spend a summer
patrolling a different pool’s edge. I lose

count of how many sons are held
by their fathers; large &
calloused hands buoying
their lineages, these islands

and their fluttering limbs.

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This poem first appeared in Crab Orchard Review in June 2019. To view the poem as it originally appeared, visit the publication here.

Rest in peace to Jon Tribble, a tremendous force in the community who is survived by his wife and co-editor, poet Allison Joseph.