I Pass His School during Lunch

I first spot his jacket. Like a binary star

A photo illustration of a black-and-white headshot of poet Matthew Tierney. Behind him are two outlines of his silhouette in two different shades of yellow against a solid darker brown background.
Playground a’squawk. From the south-side
street opposite, out for a daytime walk,
I first spot his jacket. Like a binary star
my son rising pixelated on
the far horizon: those bits I own
as atmosphere to my core.

He continues to not see me, tuned
to other kids, scoring diacritics
on the utility pole. What is, emptying
what was: the edifice I know

as lent, soul temporal, inscribing
duration, the middle of the end.
Whether or not I walk on, I do

and I don’t. When I go, he’ll be gone.

Matthew Tierney
Matthew Tierney won the 2013 Trillium Book Award for Poetry for his book Probably Inevitable.