A Candle For
After the half-life
of my daughter’s last year
a dimness appeared
like a veiled busker
sawing out sad tunes
on her violin
The few pieces of silver
glinting up from the dark
velvet of her case
made me think of moons
Remembrance mirrors
the invisible of someone
so a self seems immortal
a thing which zigs beyond
its now-pulseless zag
to exit flesh and hover
at least a part of forever
but a candle can
only glimmer until
snuff it just sputters out
*
A Father’s Lament
We almost never met
but at eleven you asked
I forced a truce of sorts
conceded your fidelity
The years huddled like orphans
between the now-and-thens
And the clock’s hand
scythed down
the might-have-beens
leaving only the likely
In the end I learned too late
the unconditional of surrender
*
Tim Mayo’s poems and reviews have appeared in The American Journal of Poetry, Barrow Street Journal, Narrative Magazine, Poetry International, and Salamander among many other places. His poems have received seven Pushcart Prize nominations. His first full-length collection of poetry The Kingdom of Possibilities was published by Mayapple Press in 2009 and was a finalist for the 2009 May Swenson Award. His second volume of poems, Thesaurus of Separation (Phoenicia Publishing, 2016) was a finalist for both the 2017 Montaigne Medal and the 2017 Eric Hoffer Book Award among other honors, and his chapbook Notes to the Mental Hospital Timekeeper (Kelsay Books 2019) also won an Honorable Mention in the 2020 Eric Hoffer Chapbook Award. He works at the Brattleboro Retreat, a mental institution, and is a founding member of the Brattleboro Literary Festival.