First Look
it’s hard to say when it started –
the erasure of my father
but it may have been
my wedding day
before our “first look” when
he’d made his way back inside
wandered in from the courtyard
forgetting why he was sent there
& when I found him on the couch
I took his gentle arm in mine
led him back out under the trees
the trumpet vines hung like curtains
and the photos would later show
a confused smile that could almost
be mistaken for amazement,
for joy – but there were
holes in the light that poured from him
and now five years later I wonder
if that’s how it is now, my father
and I walking hand in hand
always on our way back
to where we’re supposed to be
Lauren Kalstad is a Dallas-based poet. She received her MFA in Creative Writing from New York University and currently teaches at the University of North Texas. Her poetry and essays are forthcoming or have appeared in “Edible,” “World Literature Today,” “Thimble Literary Magazine,” and “The Belleville Park Pages.”