Fork

By Steve McCord

A wince tumbles down hard into the heart’s loam,

Leaving impression after impression.

When did they first taste from the fork

That comes to be known as:

Their separate ways?

Popped cork, celebrated stork, and passionate discourse

Fermenting into a cruel intoxicant;

Acrimony on its way to alimony.

 

On the sidelines, with inquisitive green eyes,

And faultless face framed by sun-bleached hair—

A fervent boy awkwardly trying,

Somewhere today still trying,

To hold that cumbersome fork;

How to serve himself now,

The sustenance he needs,

While delicately straddling his loyalties…

 

Ever busy keeping the supply lines

Of his love, crated assurances

Marching across the treacherous terrain

Of the New World:

That ever-widening gulf

Between Camp Mother and Camp Father—

Between the separate houses they each are trying

To turn into homes.

 

___

Steve McCord is a family therapist specializing in addiction medicine, a member of the labor management partnership team at Kaiser Permanente while also serving on the board of directors at the Los Cerritos Wetlands Land Trust. Steve has studied with Ellen Bass and Sy Safransky. When his schedule permits, he travels, dabbles with wood carving, and grows organic vegetables in his garden.


Comments are closed.