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Kathleen Kirk
Prose Sonnet to the Silent Father

1. I won’t know what to say in my next letter, since you
have not answered the last and the one before.


2. I see you in every man who leans back in his chair,
quiet until he’s ready to push into a pause a statement
like, “That’s a terrible question,” about the one I just asked.


3. My husband sat crying in his chair, I want to tell you,
while I sang in the other room and our daughter
screamed, “Stop singing!”


4. He cried for his own father, left behind in Cuba, who
played the piano.


5. “because he didn’t get to hear his papi sing,” my
daughter tells me later, “and he was still sad even with
me sitting on his lap.”


6. “Next time will you let me sing?”


7.


8. Here is a letter I have revised and torn to pieces,
an action you will call clichéd and sentimental.

9. You are like a poetry teacher.

10. I need to learn how to say the opposite of what I mean
but without irony.

11. (a prose tactic, yours).

12. I need to learn how to leave silence at the center

13. and still be able to sign my name to it

14. as if it were written by me.