father steps
outdoors
stands in
the yard
looks up
arms wide
palms to
heaven
as the crumbs drop
in his eyes
as if on a
road
in a
Massachusetts’
blizzard building
blizzard building
until he can’t see
the batter
his eyeballs pack
which he
brings back
blindly
blindly
to show us
what cake looks
like
before it
becomes
from the morsels
falling off tabletops
above
one for me
one for my brother
to see
with his eyes
how easy it is
to win a bite
to win a bite
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