The Poet's Walk
We kissed his forehead, yellow, cold, inert,
sobbed stunned goodbyes and left his body, drove
to Poet’s Walk above the Hudson hurt
beyond expression, where, on hills, small groves
of ancient trees are interspersed with fields,
a place where, Kevin said, he liked to go.
And as cremation’s fires consumed, annealed
his spirit to our spirits, as the glow
of July’s sun warmed flesh too numb to feel,
we walked where he had walked and tried to find
our balance in a world turned bleak, unreal—
our son was gone, his smile, his wondrous mind.
And as we walked the wings of butterflies,
black mourning cloaks, danced through the summer skies.
Thomas Davis has had five books published, including his recent epic poem, The Weirding, A Dragon Epic by Bennison Books. He has edited three magazines, one anthology, and had articles and essays published in magazines and journals. He has been President or Chief Academic Officer of five tribal colleges.