Nino’s Antiques

home: car cleaning bribe
 so i can get my work done
 and they earn their game
 
 insurance battle
 because i won’t be bullied
 by corporations
 
 i wash out bottles
 and my new/old egg beater
 from Nino’s Antiques
 
 (the shop in Gorham
 i went to as a child
 with just two pennies
 
 and Nino emerged
 with his wax-curled mustache
 and sold me his goods
 
 and this egg beater
 will remind me: he’s still there
 in my timeless town
 
 his mustache now gray
 asking my girls about school
 his PBS on
 
 selling his antiques
 for much too little money
 and chatting with kids
 
 he’s no CEO
 no insurance scam artist
 my hometown hero)
 
 

The End of Road Trip 2015

one last lunch break stop
 at the last Pony Express
 history to chew
 
 five thousand miles
 sixteen states, three Great Lakes,
 one foreign province
 
 home to our daddy
 waiting with open arms, love
 and Denver’s sunshine
 

Day Twenty-Two, Road Trip 2015

two days, three Great Lakes
 city view transfers to beach
 (they’re tired of pics)
 
 look how amazing!
 i shout to their grumbling
 freshwater ocean!
 
 reluctance wavers
 as they find rocks and small waves
 accept magnitude
 
 (this after lunch fight
 refusing peanut butter
 drive-thru battle won)
 
 Illinois takes us
 twelve hours past the border
 at Wendy’s, give in
 
 they live for water
 cause it’s all about the pool
 on the long ride home
 

Day Nineteen, Road Trip 2015

chilled out lake beach day
 Denver’s blue skies followed us
 a day to ourselves 
 
 camp cookouts, sailboats 
 gentle hum of mini waves
 not a soul in sight 
 
 only one thing gone:
 his arms, his love around us
 (at home he awaits)
 
 peace comes in sparkles
 small sun rays dipped in forests
 shining through the dark 
 

 

Day Eighteen, Road Trip 2015

sunrise silent view
 collecting glacial water
 from my hometown lake
 
 impossible sights
 832 steps
 made by miracles
 
 spring water fill up
 waterfall wonderment walk
 distant valley view
 
 lunch at the vineyard
 blue as sky midday lake taste
 (feast as delicious)
 
 swim in clear waters
 girls fearless of bottom plants
 wet fun in cool lake
 
 grade school best friends meet
 each of us toting three kids
 (could have been our life)
 
 but i’ll take this view:
 journeys home–here, everywhere
 all have a sunrise
 
 

Day Seventeen, Road Trip 2015

met in a drugstore
 seventy years of marriage
 through three kids, three wars
 
 still earth’s travelers
 color-coded pins mark map
 slept, lived, camped, drove, flew
 
 she swims every day
 he mows the yard and pulls weeds
 they tease each other
 
 best of all? they grin
 take tragedy, joy in turns
 till death do them part
 
 (this is why i drive
 take my kids along the road
 live long by travel)
 
 

Day Sixteen, Road Trip 2015

small town tire delay
 gives us reason for lobster
 (just a short Maine walk)
 
 two missed turns later
 we find winding New Hampshire
 ready for ice cream
 
 fixed reservation
 at a camp we’ve never seen
 top out my Monday
 
 late night text shocker:
 best sleeping bag left in Maine
 (adventure goes on)
 
 we find our way back
 on lobster walks, ice cream runs
 till we feel at home
 
 that’s how the road plays:
 missed turns, rushed escape attempts
 journeys everywhere
 
 

Day Fifteen, Road Trip 2015

focus on beach time
 not the lost stakes, the thunder,
 the flat tire hell
 
 not the life critique,
 lack of lobster, the car bed
 (just the grinning sand)
 
 

Day Fourteen, Road Trip 2015

first view of ocean
 they never want to go back
 to snowy Vermont
 
 they find ways to play
 after hours of traffic
 self-entertained
 
 yet, there are strict rules
 just like back home: perfection
 unmatched, unwanted
 
 just let them be kids
 romp up to their ears in sand
 take pleasure in filth
 
 (if only we could
 have homes and hearts like her heart
 where they’d build castles)
 
 

Day Thirteen, Road Trip 2015

a moment of risk
 on this never ending trip
 is what makes this pic
 
 kids brimming with grins
 now i sit in silent car
 grateful for this time
 
 i watch my uncle
 hands in tremors–sixty-five
 granddaughter in tow
 
 age recycles us
 into all we wanted here–
 just a yes, a yes