Our Son Leaves His Miniature Japanese
Sand Garden Behind Because There Will Be
No Room in the Dorm
His bamboo rake is two inches long,
with four prongs
that, when I lift them from the sand,
have left what look like his tooth marks
on my arm when he was what?, one?,
one-and-a-half?,
his teeth cutting through the gums
making him howl and chomp down hard,
and I let him, felt the budding
teeth sink in,
settle, till he fell asleep here
in this room where
the statue of Laughing Buddha
sits cross-legged
beside the black enameled box
of sand that has two S-curves at top
and bottom,
three black sharks' teeth dropped
randomly, but not—
a triangle, an arched eyebrow,
a winged roof, or
three people standing about
the same distance apart,
one's hand up and waving
as he turns,
the other two wildly waving back.
--Len Roberts