Peter Yovu

The Reunion

This morning, still half asleep as I often am now that I’m old, I stepped outside despite the wind, despite the cold, as I did when I was a boy. When I was a boy, I thought nothing of it.

When I was a boy and God was a pond I could drop pebbles in and he always responded, widening his arms to welcome me, should I care to enter. When he was a gang of crows hanging out in an oak I could depend on his wake-up call. When he was a tarantula in a pet shop I found myself keenly aware of the fine hairs lifting on my arms. I felt kinship with all things. 

One day I wondered if God would ever be …. me. I asked my mother and got a slap for an answer. 

That was the beginning of ponds being ponds, of crows being crows and spiders spiders. The end of a boy’s everywhere God. God who, I know this now that I am old, is a cold wind across my face. 

grief
a shadow
left rocking on the porch

---

About the Author

Peter Yovu grew up on Staten Island and has lived in Vermont since 1967. His latest book, shine shadow (Red Moon Press, 2024), features haiku, haibun, and longer poems.

---