The rear-view mirror
frames Mom’s frowning eyes
she flies past the ghost’s house:
“You two will stay indoors
the rest of today.”
except for Evie
taking a short trip
to the mailbox:
“I can’t. I don’t like
when rain plops on my head.
Like a bird,
if you know what I mean.”
inside the house
lights flicker
Dad sets out
flashlights and candles
thunder cracks
rain gushes
like the lake
is pouring itself
over the roof
no amount of Boggle
passes the time.