after Tracy K Smith
For Tires. For Tread that tires
after many miles.
For Turrets and spires, for glass
stained to see, to illumine,
to be seen through.
For an altar in every town.
For the knees of priests that bend
when ours can’t. For Toblerone
at the duty free when we’ve
no memento in tow.
For Taxis to the terminal and
dragging us across the tarmac.
For Tarmac. For in-flight snacks,
then taxis again. For Time
to make home, and love, after travel.
For Tomaso, our robot vacuum.
For Together, whatever weather.
Andy Stager is from Akron, Ohio, USA. He has lived with his wife and three sons in South Carolina, South Korea, Switzerland, and now Denver, Colorado, where he is pastor of Saint Patrick Presbyterian Church. He is obsessed with fly fishing. His poetry has appeared in Ekstasis, Fare Forward, Heart of Flesh, Coffee People, and Bullshit Lit.