The lazy boy

moves away,
in a van
where I’ll never be,
from impressions
in the carpet pile
where I rocked
early moments
of infants’ lives
swaddled close
so close
so close
and where they chattered
near my stockinged feet
to tiny friends
and where Audrey said
“My daddy loves me”
and where l lean
against a barren wall
with a hollow echo
and I rock
a silent rock
and I rock