Special Orders

Edward Hirsch

Give me back my father walking the halls

    of Wertheimer Box and Paper Company

        with sawdust clinging to his shoes.

Give me back his tape measure and his keys,

     his drafting pencil and his order forms;

          give me his daydreams on lined paper.

I don't understand this uncontainable grief.

     Whatever you had that never fit,

         whatever else you needed, believe me,

my father, who wanted your business,

     would squat down at your side

         and sketch you a container for it.