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 say how big a spoon;
He winks through bifocals and coats his wheaties
with a soup spoon of brown sugar.