Peter

He was a peddler of wonder who gave me kites in summer

concertos and composers and the errant paddling of our

canoe bringing us to a bay where we draw up pike

and have earnest conversations about God.

In lamp light, mellow, we assemble

mystery jigsaw puzzles and he confides he has cut down

his sugar intake to one spoon.

They didn't sat how big a spoon;

He winks through bifocals and coats his wheaties

with a soup spoon of brown sugar.