The Tie
Richard Jordan
I had never tied a tie until
my father’s funeral. My older brother
stood with me at the bathroom mirror
and coached me through. It’s not so hard,
he said. He called the knot a Four-in-Hand,
had learned by watching Dad effortlessly
manage it while hurrying out the door
to work. And where had I been? Probably
glued to Bugs Bunny or the Stooges. I got it
on the third try, or was close. It would be OK
to tuck the too-long skinny end into
my waistband. That’s what Dad would do,
my brother said, and we went to show our mother.
At first she reached to straighten it, but then
pulled back. Well, look at you, she said.
That’s just right. I think she even smiled.
About the Author
Richard Jordan’s poems appear or are forthcoming in Terrain, Cider Press Review, Connecticut River
Review, Rattle, Valparaiso Poetry Review, New York Quarterly, Gargoyle Magazine, Sugar House Review,
Tar River Poetry, South Florida Poetry Journal and elsewhere. His debut chapbook, The Squannacook at
Dawn, won first place in the 2023 Poetry Box Chapbook Contest. He serves as an Associate Editor for
Thimble Literary Magazine.