Member-only story
Through the happenstance of children, I came to recognize your face.
At school events.
One day you threw your hat in for PTA president
a landmark, two dads running the show
You often smiled at the world
through thick glasses with an open-eyed stare
that seemed to beg understanding
As the years went our kids were not friends, ages and genders unmatched
Still your round glasses, crooked grin I’d catch sometimes in the middle school hallways
The kids grew as they will,
The stories came through anecdotes
Word was your children liked the ganja
mine were frightened off by a formerly wayward mother
but gossip we did about it
about that penchant for reefer that seemed so incongruent
a pediatrician for a mother and word she had given her blessing
I sometimes wondered where you, the father stood on the matters at hand
I wouldn’t have asked,
you’d have no reason to tell me
