Gary Fox

Ten Thousands Ifs on the Boardwalk

We eat cannoli
water ice and ice cream like
the fading orange over the ocean
and the pinhole dot of the rising
moon are not miracles
like my wife and her two blood
vessels did not burst
with the purpose of blotting out this
family outing like the dripping smiles
staining our kids’ shirts are not answered
prayers like I did not chant to everything
to attach to this very moment
and everyone has the nerve
to keep walking past
like they don’t see the now
full moon leave a rippling trail
over the ocean towards the holy
spirit like love and prayers did not mend
this possible hole in our being
like we do not have to wear masks
because we can be erased
from the script we act
out like we are not one cough
away from quarantined silence

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Gary Fox has poems published in the journals The Bucks County Writer, Toho Journal, The Shore and High Shelf Press as well as the anthology Mass Incarceration in America: Advocacy, Art and The Academy. Also, he had a poem featured online by The Parliament. He has a B.A. in English and a certificate in creative writing from The Pennsylvania State University.