January 2018
Kenneth Pobo
kgpobo@widener.edu
kgpobo@widener.edu
My work recently has been accepted by: Nude Bruce, Razorhouse Magazine, Ginosko Literary Journal, Comstock Review, and Glass: A Journal of Poetry. Find me in my garden looking for Bette Davis. Catch my Internet radio show, Obscure Oldies, on Saturdays from
6-830pm EST on Widecast.
6-830pm EST on Widecast.
SOMETHING I CAN’T SEE
1958, I was four. Dad told me
a story about Korea, a grief
he could only partly share.
He liked Chuck, Elvis, Jerry Lee.
And Roy, oh yes,
Roy Orbison, the party
lights on the porch of his life.
I’d like to sway and loll
like a large dahlia
on a thin stem, but today
dad looks sad beside a plastic
white radio. He stares
at something I can’t see,
real to him. Distance
has its own songs.
SOMETHING I CAN’T SEE
1958, I was four. Dad told me
a story about Korea, a grief
he could only partly share.
He liked Chuck, Elvis, Jerry Lee.
And Roy, oh yes,
Roy Orbison, the party
lights on the porch of his life.
I’d like to sway and loll
like a large dahlia
on a thin stem, but today
dad looks sad beside a plastic
white radio. He stares
at something I can’t see,
real to him. Distance
has its own songs.
© 2018 Kenneth Pobo
Editor's Note: If this poem(s) moves you please consider writing to the author (email address above) to tell him or her. You might say what it is about the poem that moves you. Writing to the author is the beginning of community at Verse Virtual. It is very important. -FF