Things


Familiar yet

the fabric of this couch

still un-stretched,

no smudges or stick

on the white shag carpet

where my toes warm themselves

and fiddle.

Home is a relative term.

This family meeting

festive, somber

we joke as brother and sister do

while Mom lays trays of dip

and Dad spreads out

the papers.

The last time we met for

‘the discussion of the wills’

I was too young to drive

though I had a say in euthanasia.

Now I am grown, I’ve flown faster

than the sun and turned back time

to be here, where

the dishes are the same

but I’m unsure

in which cupboard they reside.

Residence is impermanence.

Dad with his lips like mine

asks if there is anything we want to claim

so nothing becomes messy.

I’m stuck on claim and mess.

Mom is busy, asking about jewelry,

wouldn’t I want

jewelry?

I’m thinking it’s the things

that are meant to sum them up.

My brother and I are still, save for my toes

in the carpet and his allergies waiting

for the rain.

Everything Rolling Stones to my dad

because this is how we’ve related

thought the other really cool

sang words aloud on family road trips

and years later over tequila.

My father gushes quietly,

as is his way

with pride.

Thunder rumbles in my stomach and briefly

we look into each other’s eyes

mother daughter

father son

mother son

brother sister

daughter father

husband wife.

The breeze through the lanai has become wind

and swelled to a howl, my skin pimpling

and I rub my arms, dream of ugg boots

imported into Florida.

Do you want a blanket?

Then as if to counterpoint:

Your piano, ignoring shipping and the trauma

of the riotous waves, a large crate splintering

what would be my lingering pain.

Why would I want the baby grand

when at nine – don’t you remember –

I became so frustrated

with my mom’s teaching

I stopped playing the piano?

What about five – remember the tiny

ballerina behind you all around

as you played straight-backed and wrists

relaxed because I will never forget.

My brother’s fingers touch

waste time.

You ask this now?

He laughs.

We know it is not funny.

Keith Richards and JS Bach

and the shouting rain

on the condo’s roof

keep a heavy beat;

the steady gutter of water

like strings.