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AUTHOR’S NOTE People are puzzles, lots of pieces. With parents, pieces multiply, shapes shift. Children working to solve the puzzle in the mirror look to portraits of their parents. Fathers, Sons and Holy Ghosts, a collage of poems, looks to shape, if not resolve, a family album. The dominant piece in this puzzle is my father, a wise, funny, loving, wounded man. Looking at him as a child, a young man, a married man and a father, and at bits and pieces of myself, I begin to see how father’s fathers shape son’s sons, and how, in the middle of this puzzle, my father shaped me.