Doxa 1

Cold Blood

A man in a camouflage coat
is posting a flier to a pole on the corner.
The flier says “MISSING” above a photo
of a boy. Because the sun has sunk
behind the skyline, however, I can
decipher nothing more about the boy
than that he is a boy missing. But
judging by his father’s sangfroid face
(for how could it not be his father?)
as he braves the intersection,
his fliers quivering in the frigid wind
and the evening traffic so apathetic
about him, that is everything there is
to say, that one intolerable word.