Day 5

After dark.

for Joel

Heartily bolstered with pancakes
and the soft innards of oranges,
We were rolling around in ivory fields
of Egyptian cotton. Tossed about
in a quilted universe of a
holiday spent alone.
Radiophonics
and the whirling sounds of
melodramatic acting and
otherworldliness in the
background we are
sheltered by our own
singular dream of what
this world should be.
But eventually
we arise
and, after a late afternoon
shower,
allow reality back in.
We bicker but once
in the car, but cool it,
realizing
in the parking lot
that we had arrived
at one of our favorite
places. We stroll
easy, like adults
down that familiar
trail of gravel
leading to the
wooden planks
stretching out over
the river drag.
You listen for wildlife
and I see a goose.
I say to you God wants us to notice things
That's why he shows us a tree twice.
Once coming out of the ground
and once reflected on the water.
You say you want to glide
like a hawk, so your
arms never get tired.
You like the way that looks.
Then you look at me.
Something fills within us,
and we once again
leap through the
local park like children
Each going down the fireman pole.
And I remember
what a spectacular idea
it would be
to have a picnic
after dark.