JUNE 1967
JUNE 1967
I was working on the car
in our yard—
well, what will be our yard.
We’re at the Jeter house again
until we can build our own house.
A car drove past slow enough.
I looked up—
Sheriff Brooks in his
black Ford truck,
that dog in the back—
driving down our road,
Passing Road.
What does he think he’s gonna do?
Make his own law.
He lost.
He lost but GOOD.
I laughed and got back
under the hood
of the Ford.
Millie walked up,
leaned on me,
looked at the engine
and said something about
how clean it looked.
I wiped my hands on a rag,
both of us laughing soft.
We rocked for a moment.
There, I said.
We’ll build the house there—
pretty close to where I caught
your home run ball.
She looked at me funny.
Bean, don’t you remember?
I was there with your brothers,
caught your fly ball coming through
the apple tree, there.
You was mad as a hornet—
thought you was going to kill me.
I could tell she was working hard to remember.
She said, Yep, I think I do remember.
Can’t tell if she really did.
Don’t matter.
I smiled and said,
Couldn’t have done this without you.
She laughed at that.
I laughed.
She said,
This whole
thing brought us closer together,
I think.
Do you?
Yeah, I think so.