Market Day Round 2
Market Day Round 2
At dinner, my family
has demands:
“Give us the highlights.”
“What was the play by play?”
“Did you enjoy it?”
These demands for me
demand more questions.
If they mean the way
golden light danced
across the white blanket
this morning in such a way
I had to rub my eyes, twice,
to make sure Tink
wasn’t in the room,
~
Or how I saw, twice,
between passing faces
and funny t-shirts
and stories about rocks
and poems and art,
an airborne shadow
of a hummingbird
darting about eucalyptus
leaves across the way,
~
Or the weight of heartfelt
admiration of an eight-year-old
boy with long hair over the rock
I made about my dad, and
the way his younger
brother called the whole family back
to add more color to his rock,
twice,
~
Or how, when my awareness
skimmed light as a water bug
atop the wash of a whole day,
I wrote in my notebook
“Is this the right place, the right time?”
and my poet friend arrived, twice,
baring gifts like humor and grace…
~
If that is “it,” then
yes, I enjoyed it, though the play
by play is beyond my grasp.
As for the highlights, I can
only say they flicker like
sunlight dancing
through morning leaves.
~
We all take a sip
from our water glass.
