BUT, FOR A WHILE

We toast

me

Dad

April

Mom

with Geneva cookies,

ginger ale,

custard apple.

Celebrate my acceptances to

Kenyon

Dickinson

(wait-listed at Bowdoin).

A year ago

I would’ve been devastated by a wait list,

but not now,

only joy.

Grace even put in a note,

she saw a meteor shower,

hopes I choose Dickinson.

We celebrate with a game,

the four of us, a family.

Chinese checkers:

April’s green.

Mom, red.

I choose blue.

Dad, white.

The board, a star.

None of us say much during the game,

marching pieces from our individual sides,

but for a while

we are all jumbled up,

jumping over each other to get to new spots,

until we settle back in

rearranged   but               connected.