My happy moments are broken. 

Your omniscient smile, 

your sparse peppered goatee,

your booming, declarative voice-

the foghorn of our young lives

that sent us scrambling away

from your rock-hard hands,

but never out of reach 

of your sworded tongue-

reach me from the depths

of where you lie, somewhere 

in this world, not known

to me, nor would I want to know,

except to poke you to make sure

this is not yet another ruse

to watch me squirm, or scream, 

or cry. I focus on one time

you screamed so loud in the garage

and I blocked anyone from entering, 

from seeing the fresh, blood-stained floor, 

only to be moved aside- 

this was not his time, his accident, 

but not his time. So close,

yet so far. Later. Always later. 

Memory fades. The present fills me. 

My happy moments return.

Photo by Alexandre Boucey on Unsplash

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Danielle Wong is the author of the poetry collection Bubble Fusion that portrays life with an autistic child. Her work has appeared in Montreal Writes, Pine Cone Review, Plato’s Cave Online, SETU Magazine, Special Edition 2023, Chronicling the Days (Guernica Editions), Resistance (University of Regina Press), among others. She is currently working on a story poem for children. Visit her at danielle wong.