Eleanor Bevil Tipton

Shard

Volume 14:4, Fall 2013
Prose Poem Issue

Shard

Always the dream has hurry at its core. My father in his gray suit in an empty room. He’s younger here, all his hair dark and full, the suit pressed and well put together. He says he can’t find his three brothers who died in Vietnam. He flicks his tie. The room’s empty. I try to tell him about his grandson. He looks down at his feet. My brothers, he says, and I feel I keep him in this memorial space of constant return. His suit pressed and readied for our perpetual meeting.

 

Eleanor Bevil Tipton's poetry has appeared in Pleiades, Front Porch, Drunken Boat, and Best New Poets 2010. She is the recipient of the Virginia Downs Poetry Award from George Mason University where she completed her MFA in 2011. She lives in Washington, DC with her husband and two children.