A Capella
I have been known to take the long way home. Past cattails rustling in the meadow. Past redwings whistling return return. Along the slow-moving stream, over the footfall footbridge and through the park gate. Then down the street of a quiet neighborhood to a stranger’s front yard. The house, curtains drawn, looks empty for the day. Yet under a small dogwood, turning leaves dapple the light where it comes to rest on a weathered bench.door ajar
the music we'd pick
to die for
Family Reunion
There are ten of us floating in connected inner tubes, five on one side, five on the other, back to back. It’s not a leisurely drift down a peaceful river, rather an undulating journey on ocean swells. Dad—who passed over a decade ago—seems his usual self, mumbling obscenities under his breath. My sister, in stylish shades and a wide-brimmed hat, is reading a romance novel. My two boys and niece and nephew are all bored and bickering. I toss them some sunscreen and tell them to slather their faces and shoulders. Mom’s been stirring something in a pot for hours. My husband and brother-in-law have cast their lines. So far, the only nibbles have been to our toes. I do hope none of us are bleeding.packing lightly
a roll of duct tape
just in case