He was a peddler of wonder
who gave me kites in summer
and concertos, the erring paddle
of canoe bringing us to a bay
where we draw up pike
and have earnest conversations about God.
I named a golden pup Sandy;
Petey let us run errands together alone,
Secretive missions for chocolate chips that grams and I
transformed into cookies.
In lamp light mellow we assemble
mystery jigsaw puzzles and
he confides he has cut down
his sugar intake to one spoon.
They didn’t sat how big a spoon;
He winks through bifocals and coats his wheaties
with a soup spoon of brown sugar.