Like Zeus
By Rebecca Kaiser Gibson
Bow-legged in blue work shorts,
between waist-high stumps, massive chest
streaked
with garden soil and sweat,
the world
his broad back
the sun set over.
Called for bath and bed,
She’d waited,
hoping he might see and wave.
Her sister stopped
because she did.
The sky swirled dark. His hair
whipped black. A sudden coursing
rain silver-blurred all
but his unwaved arm
upraised
as if to greet
the lightning.
Copyright © 2020 by Rebecca Kaiser Gibson.