My late son, in my version of heaven, 

is reading the box scores aloud

with his Cheerios or beef jerky. Now

he ponders the standings. No.

He is listening for his mom, below

in the kitchen. Is she laughing hard

or still crying? These fleeting answers

only come when bounding down 

a flight of stairs, or looking lost 


on a corner among skyscrapers.

I’d tell him to eat up because 

he can’t miss the bus again and that

my love for him is like sand spanned

across the quiet breakfast tables

of minted time. The sound of grit from

just moving the butter. Chewing loudly

while believing he’s always been 

like me, learning under lintels.


KG Newman is a sportswriter who covers the Broncos and Rockies for The Denver Post. His first three collections of poems are available on Amazon and he has been published in hundreds of literary journals worldwide. The Arizona State University alum is on Twitter @KyleNewmanDP and more info and writing can be found at He lives in Hidden Village, Colorado, with his wife and two kids.