Equinox

sons rise in the evening

early aged,

riding bikes

with playing cards 

slapping along motorcycle rhythm

and when the sun goes down

later

 after the streetlights come on

the sons go inside

and the cards still speak

white tables unfold

and night speaks louder

louder when it’s quiet

, fathers teach their sons to dance

playing spades

playing Cool.

boys come and go

we loom in doorways

and liminal spaces 

pray

the innocent

the absent,

the years go by

just pass

Eventually,

Everything goes

loudest

in silence.