![\"heather-derr-smith.jpg\"](\"http:\/\/beatrice.com\/wordpress\/wp-content\/uploads\/2009\/04\/heather-derr-smith.jpg\")
<\/p>\n<\/p>\n
\nMy father, whom I did not know at the time,
\nWas at Yelapa Bay, Mexico.
\nHe had been missing since I was seven. One day,
\nHe came around a bend and found a wounded pelican,
\nCaught on a fishing line, tangled and hooked.
\nEvery time the bird thrust its head back,
\nThe pouch tore,
\nThe hook ripped a little bit more, an episiotomy
\nThat birthed only fear.
\nIt wasn’t the first time. Once, he’d led a deer
\nJust like the father in Arabian nights with the gazelle,
\nWho bought a third of a life for a stranger.
\nMy father sat near through her labor
\nUntil she gave birth.<\/p>\nThe pelican would die. About this time I would have
\nWondered where he was, if near.
\nMy father, whom I was beginning to forget,
\nCrept low to the ground in a gesture of humility the bird recognized,
\nBeyond all believability, and calmed.
\nMy father, who left when I was very young, cradled the pelican in his arms.
\nMy father was a ticket agent for Braniff airlines
\nAnd always carried his sewing kit in his pocket.
\nHe was prepared for anything but fatherhood.
\nBut at the bend in the bay he mended the hurt bird.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\nThe Bride Minaret<\/i><\/a> is the second collection of poems by Heather Derr-Smith<\/a>, and the University of Akron Press has provided a PDF sampler<\/a> of more poems from the book. The Literary Bohemian<\/i> has also published three new poems<\/a> in its most recent issue.<\/p>\n