My mother always threatened us
with my father’s fists; when my mother
laughed, tears would come to his eyes and
he never hit her, or us, though he threatened to:
I believed him as well when he cried as when he
never hit her. My father always told us
She could always make him laugh like a punchline
in a blue housecoat on New Year’s Eve.
They lifted each other up:
like fine golden blossoms,
gone over waterfalls,
rise to the surface together
to catch and double sunshine.