Trampoline
tattered safety net
ripped sliding off its poles
in no condition to stop
an errant jumper
rusted springs rusted uprights
But it still has bounce
hedges stopped trying to get around
started growing right through
But it still has bounce
maybe I’ll just remove the net
clean up the springs
front flips belly flops
it still has bounce
at the peak of jumps
hair floating off your heads
laughter escaping lips
years go by in blinks
The last vestige of childish play
to leave this home
Everyone has grown
Pinstripes
for a moment they remind me of my grief
as everything beautiful does when grieving
orange blocks in the sky separated
by the thinnest strips of white cloud
I’ve never seen a pinstriped horizon before
but I’ve felt this grief for two months now
windows down moonroof open
COVID mask dancing on the rearview mirror
Shit! I forgot about the papers on the backseat
collected before soccer practice every day
each one a teenage girl’s proclamation to wellness
98.7 97.6 99.1 98.1 97.7 97.6
Fuck it let them blow
the blocks of sky
morph orange to dull pink as I crest a hill
I can’t remember us sharing a remarkable sunset
I’m sure we had as kids
time spent lying in the backyard grass
calling out the shapes of clouds
I always saw turtles.
My daughter pops into the car
picking her up from girls’ group
A gathering of teenagers
proclaiming their love of God and chicken fingers
Check out that sky
I know, I’ve been watching
full deep pink now the thin white lines
now dark thick navy
Pink and blue the balloons tied to the dining room chair
for tomorrow’s gender reveal party
my first grandchild I couldn’t be happier
but the grief reminds me
as everything beautiful does when grieving
How that grandchild will never meet their great-uncle
Comments