At the pool, Ezra launches himself with boldness, but only attempts the deep end if my hands catch him. My parents sit under a spider that is weaving a tangled sheet of silk on the eaves of a white arbor, and they watch their grandson splash, their smiles agape with pleasure, nodding as he dog paddles.
Her husband won’t let it be that way. He will not let his baby become orphaned by parents who cannot be together.
“Dario,” Santa Clara Review, 2000
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