before the long drive,
enjoy the perfect park. shop.
soak up cousin time.
eat your sister’s meal
till the next time you see her.
too long (just too long).
your daughters will drive.
together, we can make it.
we will rule the night.
it’s all we can rule
with the oldest off to school
we can rule the night.
cycling through hills
of perfectly green horse farms
before paddling
bucket lists are short
but should include Kentucky
for its soft beauty
Kentucky surprise:
shadows, trees, sun, nieces, joy,
progressive murals
don’t assume you know
the beliefs of a red state
until you’ve been there
sunrise on a pond
a historic capitol
and these endless hills
my grandparents’ store
in this perfect little town
where they’ll always rest
Uncle Tim’s hard work
built for them from the ground up
(now he’s retired)
the pond where we swam
and where i brought my toddler
now off to college
how harsh time can be
taking everything away
yet giving us life
brown babe gull, black sails,
our last New England beach day
before the road home
the Constitution
(a ship in Boston Harbor)
has won my man’s heart
a tavern lunch date
for our last family road trip
with all of our girls
all grown up, my girls
(they’ve been everywhere with us)
and soon they will fly
a windy beach day
followed by farmers’ market
for tonight’s dinner
this “bike path” presents:
sea-level cycling; beach
(rode on Rhode Island)
there’s seafood here, too.
and family filled with smiles
and gardening goals
they all want to know
(yet no one really wants to)
how much it hurts. Hurts.
it’s in a painting
the storm-washed sea, blue background
the broken cable
it’s in this beach day
(today’s my uncle’s birthday)
and we can’t go back
here we are, singing
because it’s all we can do
after the long drive
