a good day with my father tucked inside a faraway summer, or: Once Upon A Time
the ball is there for continuity. something like
a good excuse to be out here beneath this
July sun that runs
full court
on the back of our necks.
And its got better burn then the both of us,
so half an hour in we’re already on the bench,
dreaming out loud of ice tea
beneath a canopy of trees.
the court transforming into a bird bath.
the heat making ripples with its toes.
And it seems like
this is the most quiet the worlds ever been,
even with the wind careening against our backs.
And I cant get the smirk off my face,
even after he finishes telling the story about how
my mom and him had decided bringing a life into
this world wasn't the worst idea.
And I think about how much more it means
that they weren’t
here. that they were struggling in some
apartment on Hawaii ave
each with their own summers
each with enough burn
to play it through
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