My Father's Feet

They are thoughts, on earth, in shoes, stepping
slowly over the layers of leaf
and heaven decomposing.

He was a mailman for twenty years. Twenty
miles a day through rain, and...

The hedges between one day
and the next, one
day and our deaths, were dark

but immaterial. My father
walked straight through them, shod

in diligence, without

self-knowledge, or pretense,

and without stumbling. He

suffered, but did not question. He
rowed his lotus boats down that river in no
particular direction, this

world growing heavier as he carried it, and still,

he plods on.

My father, my first
and only messenger of God.

*Laura Kasischke's most recent book of poetry was published in 2004 by Ausable Press, GARDENING IN THE DARK. She has also published three novels, and teaches at the University of Michigan.