Two Today

We three sprawled
on the porch
a scene like a
Wes Anderson movie,
few words
somehow brimming.

Eclipse glasses make the
sun look like the moon and
Ellie and I both exclaimed
at their coolness.

Jamie knew that
already, read Siddhartha
out loud and told us matter of factly
the author spelled it wrong

then continued, a funny
echo of our mother when he was
1 and she would read us
Dr. Doolittle, Peter Pan,
with him at her breast.

When he got bored of wisdom,
wise 11-year-old he
threw slush at our sunbathing
stomachs and we laughed to
feel it melt.

Ellie made the soundtrack.
Wes picks his before the scene
but ours somehow fit better
on the fly from her speakers
songs for
three siblings, shot of sky
three shades blue of deep
and stick trees to pin it up.

I'm fascinated by the invisible
line where half our
snowy lawn has turned to
brilliant muddy grass, and
we danced barefoot on the snow
to bid it adieu.

Then Ellie and J went to
play Sims and I went
for a walk in the woods
where I found shiny sticks,
mushrooms, and
frozen dad footprints that
looked like dinosaur fossils.

**********

I wanted heat, winetipsy
tropical jungle and latenighttinted
love, conversations with stars south of
the equator and laughs in desert
sand washed down by a Pisco sour.
Set free by not knowing and not really
understanding, my eyes would
open wider, I thought, and
our hostel lounge realizations
on life would stop us in
surprised joy and send us,
fortified, to the world.
My hips still ache to shake,
my eyes still crave the dawn,
and I most certainly still wish
to meet this Mama Africa
but gravity has a way of working
even when your feet have ended up
behind your head somehow and
somewhere today,
between a noontime wake up
20 salted dark chocolate almonds and
a walk with my grandmother,
I think I've realized that
this is what I need, that
this hemisphere is perfect
for the next fourteen sunny afternoons

CVP
(a long-winded windbag today, sorry)