Undone

Pulling apart a
life together, the future
frays like a cut edge.

Vaccuming

“You suck!” becomes a
delightful metaphor for
taking it all in.

Not in polite company

She talks of threesomes,
abortions, things her mother-
in-law would faint at.

The doctor will be with you shortly

Latex gloves. Cotton
swabs. Antiseptic. What would
MacGyver create?

Hoarders

Invested with deep
meaning, treasures buried by
trash. Dust, dirt their shroud.

Missed the bus

Now she has time to
blow dry her hair while I rub
away sleep, then drive.

Away too long

Stories always tell
of the one who wanders, then
returns home…like me.

Driving kids to camp

Flat mapped names turn in-
to forested hills, roads wind
towards adventure.

Online debate

Listserv fight breaks out.
Among civil people, the
retorts well-researched.

Not among the 6%

“Let’s go to the beach!”
One kid, online, shrugs as the
other keeps texting.

“In a typical week, only 6 percent of children ages nine to thirteen play outside on their own.”
from The Option of Urbanism: Investing in a New American Dream by Christopher B. Leinberger