Photography © Edward S. Gault


The Reprimand

As Benny and I were putting our bikes away
In that late afternoon,
(Forty…what?…eight years ago?)
You came into the garage reprimanding us.
You were very angry.
Your face was contorted –
With blood vessels bulging out from your temples,
I had never seen you so mad.
You were yelling at your son,
But you were looking at me too.
Your eyes told me you wanted to hit somebody,
And you just might.
Whatever you said, you were probably right.
All I can say is touche.
But sir, that is all I can remember of you.
That day.
That face.


Edward S. Gault is a poet and fine art photographer. He lives at Mosaic Commons, a co-housing community in Berlin, Ma. He has a wife Karen, and daughter.