Give it a Name
Dad in a chair in the dark
in a room of wooden walls
and dusty DVDs
and an empty glass
by his sensitive feet
My sister slashing colors,
and redefining direction
on canvas
in a house by a highway
a fat cat looking bored
by the door
My other sister
never made
the same mistake twice
a teacher, a wife,
a lady who barely touches
tequila
or thrives on sarcasm
(like me)
I run in circles
on a vinyl record
on repeat
comforted by redundancy
and the even turns
of an even road
of an even life
Mom, when you are telling a story
you don't stop between sentences
to breathe,
so, you run out of air
I love that about you
The sky scattered her shards of clouds
this afternoon
the cicadas rattle for the sake of living
Leaves drop undramatically
from crepe myrtle trees
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