Christine Rhein: People used to ask

my father for advice — how to fix
       a chimney crack, 
a sagging porch, how to realign 

       a patio — bricks upheaved 
by thick tree roots, by years 
       of frost-thaw-frost.

And even now — at ninety —
       neighbors call him over — 
Could you come take a look, 

	tell me what you think?
Folks asked, too, about his accent,
	his childhood in Germany,

about how Hitler was allowed
        to take control, as though
my father could explain the rallies,

	the lies, the worship
of anger, the fear of showing
        oneself disloyal, weak.

But those questions stopped
	long ago, he sighs —
the answers nightly, on the news.

Copyright 2022 Christine Rhein