four questions for galileo's father's father
by Uriah Howard Allis
did you distrust
your grandson,
his ideas?
when asked of your relation
to the astronomer,
did you refute this accusation?
could you behold the urgent wonder
of your own fatherhood
like galileo spotting the milky way?
did you weigh your readiness for that day
when you became a father?
(i doubt any man can
contemplate this crushing concept—
which is easier to dismiss
like phrases about the phases of venus.)
even now, i cannot compose questions more profound
than those roused by galileo, age four, wrapped in these words:
padre¹, babbo², nonno³.
i ask in pursuit of understanding fathers. for, as with constellations,
childhood only twinkles
in the night of youth
before fleeting
like orion’s zenith,
where your grandson first saw jupiter.
1Italian for “father”
2Italian for “daddy”
3Italian for “grandpa”
About the Author
Uriah Howard Allis, twenty-one, is a queer poet and nursing student from rural Western New York. His poetry is featured in Active Muse, Ice Lolly Review, Eclipse Magazine, Moss Puppy Magazine, Intangible Magazine, YAWP Journal, Impostor Lit, and Human Narrative Journal. You can follow him on Instagram @uriahallis or uriahallis.wixsite.com/my-site.