Telemachus to Odysseus
by Beau Boudreaux


Dare listen and think
we change, cut above the brow
wind chimes ting window sills

and now there's no settling
rather a select number
father, I count them in the sea

poached pompano in meuniere
their hair casually bunned
glossy-lipped, wisped -- I don't watch

them drive away, lovers
really wouldn't be out these hours
slowly I cut the light

leaving the fan rotating
slowly, taking my time --






Copyright © 2022 by Red River Review. First Rights Reserved. All other rights revert to the authors.
No work may be reproduced or republished without the express written consent of the author.