The brown paper bag
rests carefully in the fruit bowl,
the pomegranate treasure buried inside.
Good morning, sunshine.
My father’s on the couch drinking coffee,
watching highlights of the Giant’s game.
I pour myself some cereal and sit next to him.
Hey, so I am caulking roof tiles
at my job in Pacifica,
I could at least drop you off for your delivery?
I jump up,
change my clothes, get my backpack,
stuff it full of granola bars,
an apple, and a handful of licorice.
I pull out the notebook
to make sure my drawing of the river is inside.
I open it, and a red flyer sails out of the pages.
What’s this? My father picks it up.
Youth group talent show?
Did the Covenanteers get ya?
I nod. He looks at me.
Are you thinking of …
But before he can finish, his eyes go wide.
Oh, I see, the seventeenth.
Remember that if I get tickets
for the series—WHEN I get tickets—
there might be a game that night.
I stick the flyer in my notebook,
and we head out the door,
the bag of pomegranates heavy in my hands.