If you ever saw my father in shorts,
you wouldn’t forget his stick-thin legs,
the knees knobby as windfall dwarf apples.
…they watched television or surfed around the Internet for news about what was going on in Palestine. There had been a lot of fighting—a lot of bombed out buildings. One website told about the attack at the School where Hanna’s little brother was killed, and she was probably dealing with that while Emma was news surfing.
I wake up overwhelmed
with love. Time slows.
I hear each beating of
the wings on a hummingbird.
in the small print of NASA history
the story of my father: Harold E. Bauer,
known as Hal, technical director
of that workhorse, the Saturn IV-B.
I don’t have relationships,
the old drunk explained
with surprising wisdom,
I take hostages.
it is sacred, the way
soil clinging to the seed
of a new shoot
pushing out of the earth