Annette Sisson

Portrait of My Father’s Glaucoma

My father pushes the menu across
   the table, presses me to order
his breakfast. He echoes over-easy
   to the waiter, fumbles for ketchup,
creamer. Egg yolks trickle from fork
   to jacket. I retrieve his napkin, dab
at the spots. Rising to leave, he clutches
   my sleeve. I steer him around potholes,
survey the sky, a worn gray
   tarpaulin; blotches mingle, coagulate—
conifers sweep the morning dry.
   He edges to the car’s open door.
Wind catches a flock of turkey
   vultures—solemn crosses, blur.

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Annette Sisson’s poems are published in Valparaiso PR, Birmingham PR, Rust + Moth, Citron Review, Lascaux Review, Cider PR, Glassworks, Aeolian Harp Anthology (2023) and others. Her first book Small Fish in High Branches was published by Glass Lyre (5/22) and she is finishing her second, Winter Sharp with Apples. Her poems have placed in Frontier New Voices, The Fish Anthology and others; several have been nominated for The Pushcart and Best of the Net.