MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
For Authors of Olde by Carol Dandrade

Table of Contents

Poetry


Okay

Thomas Locicero

When did your hands become as soft as petals?
Do you remember your proud callouses?
It must be difficult to be a man
as you define men, to always be on,
to always have your shoulders behind your back.
When I expected Nona Mama to die,
the stroke having had its ugly way with her,
you, oddly home, but stranger even still,
waiting for me in the driveway as I
came home from school with my best friend in tow,
said, Noni died. Just like that. No emotion.
I was relieved till you said, Nono Papa.
The cry soared out of me as if I had
vomited, and my friend seemed to be in shock.
You, taking his reaction the wrong way,
said, Itís okay. It takes a man to cry.
The last time I touched your hand, you had tears
welling in your eyes. I said, Itís okay, Dad.
And for the first time in our lives, it was.




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