I made Dad a plate of sunny-side-up eggs, brought it to him on the overstuffed sofa. His condo a miniature of his life with mom. Furniture crammed in, not meant for a place that small. The hutch behind his shoulder contained Bermuda cottages, swizzle sticks in Irish shot glasses, Hummel figurines. In front of him: reruns of Seinfeld, election coverage, incontinence ads. Only the glass coffee table dared reflect his new life back. He hid it beneath newspapers. He ate off a dish with a village painted on it. People laughing. Festive houses. The runny yolks provided a sunny sort of day. He ate watching TV. I left him that way. I left him because he liked it that way. Closed his door slowly, peering through the crack. An aperture: I took his final photograph.
Katie Kemple's work has been published by Ploughshares, Chestnut Review, and The Night Heron Barks. You can find more of her work at katiekemplepoetry.com.
10/3 / Meet the Artist with visiting poet-in-residence K.T. Landon / The Library at The Betsy-South Beach, Miami Beach, FL / Live and Live-Streamed on Instagram Live/Facebook Live at @swwimmiami / 6:00 pm EST / Free
10/3 / Poetry Reading with visiting poet-in-residence K.T. Landon + local writer Deborah DeNicola / The Library at The Betsy-South Beach, Miami Beach, FL / Live and Live-Streamed on Instagram Live/Facebook Live at @swwimmiami / 7:00 pm EST / Free
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