Evie and I rock in two fishnet swings
hanging under the tall deck
behind the house
repeat Evie’s words
letting them knock around my brain
like loose pinballs:
“There’s a rowboat
in the middle of the room
in the house next door.”
“Yep.”
Evie says
“How big is this rowboat?”
chains from the swings squawk
like a phantom parrot
as we swing
“Hard to tell.”
she says
pretend to hold a basketball:
“This big?”
maybe it’s a boat picture
or as small as a bowl
of fruit on a table
Evie snorts:
“Much bigger than that.”
“Bigger than Mr. Crunch?”
Evie’s stuffed blue lizard
measures two feet
not counting his foot long tail
she nods
“Like a canoe?”
“Kind of.”
a speedboat whirrs by
“Bigger than that?”
she shakes her head:
“It’s in pieces. But I
can tell it’s a rowboat.”
“Weird.”
the back of my neck tingles
Maybe:
A ghost needs a boat
because he can’t float.