I don’t know that much about entropy
except that I don’t call my brother much anymore.
Holidays and birthdays, ours and our kids’,
but the bonds weaken over time.
It’s enough now to leave a voicemail.
Our lives, like leaves, have branched apart,
though a thin root keeps us, briefly, in touch.
But I see these October leaves around my feet now,
and I can’t tell which ones grew up together.
I’ve taught my daughters so many lessons—
how to hold my hand across the street,
how to hold on to me in the deep end—
but now I wish I’d offered better lessons:
what their sisters’ hands in theirs can feel like,
how not to let go during the fall.
Maryland poet Adam Tamashasky teaches at American University. One of his poems in Delmarva Review was just nominated for a Pushcart Prize. His poetry has also appeared in Cold Mountain Review, The Innisfree Poetry Journal, and 491 Magazine. He grew up in Cincinnati, Ohio, and went to the University of Dayton for his undergraduate degree and to American University for his MFA.
Delmarva Review is a literary journal of national scope, with regional roots. The nonprofit review discovers and prints compelling new fiction, nonfiction, and poetry from authors within the region and beyond. It is supported by individual contributions and a grant from the Talbot County Arts Council with funds from the Maryland State Arts Council. Visit: DelmarvaReview.org. Order copies at Amazon.com.