Grand Isle, Louisiana, 2010
Post-Deepwater Horizon oil spill
Like ribbons of kelp, they wash up
bark-black and stretching
far as the eye can see—boys
sway in the waves, skin sheened
in oil as they toss the tar balls.
The rhododendron in Monroe
—-from the picture window of my childhood home,
that gave us, every year, its first bloom on the fourth
—-of June. Lilacs every April,
Brandon Rushton – Calisthenics
All things are an effort to prolong the inevitable.
For example, my deep concern when the kids call
top bunk it means they’ve acquired innuendo.
They’ll get there, if they haven’t already
and already it is hard for me to accept that.