Welcome to “Poetry at The Arts Fuse.” A new poem every Thursday

Keep

Light tires easily now
And quits us
With the blood still in our games.

The park dries like a hide.
As we shake out our goalpost sweatshirts
The tower clock across the river —
Hidden all summer in leaf —
Watches through flayed branches.

We wake in darkness now
Turn off our alarms, brew coffee by the stove-hood light
Dribble English muffin across the front page.

Unlocking my car at the curb
I slit my eyes with contempt at a squall of hammered leaves.

Dad stood on the sideline, a clipboard under his arm
In that same cloth jacket —
Someone’s castoff, a pocket torn,
Pipe soot in the creases of the sleeve ends.

My mother had left in spring.
He’d stayed drunk for a month and lost 30 pounds.

Leaves dithered across the vivid lime.
Dad frowned and slitted his eyes.
When he blared, “Bear down!
Get your head in the game!”,
I heard an Easter fanfare, lilies, light.

Larry Hardesty is the singer and songwriter for the Hopeful Monsters. He makes his living as a science writer and editor.

Note: Hey poets! We seek submissions of excellent poetry from across the length and breadth of contemporary poetics. See submission guidelines here. The arbiter of the feature is the magazine’s poetry editor, John Mulrooney.

— Arts Fuse editor Bill Marx