a month of writing

407 Victory Drive
I grew up with assassinations
magnolia trees
two sides of the candy counter
sans training wheels
salt water taffy
looks back at fifteen

closest thing to a miracle

2701 Rockingham Drive
freckles
dog honors the dog who taught him
three dogs
most mornings
Cathedral Lake
a shift in my life left an empty space
come on home
covid footwear
don’t think it’s safe
at the table
with my daughters in bed drinking coffee

Tuesday at Waterloo Records

glad I stopped to see what the line looked like
there was a spot in the parking lot
the stars were aligned
I texted Sarah to let her know

there was a spot in the parking lot
a smile spread across my face – I love Austin
I texted Sarah to let her know
and joined the fans collecting

a smile spread across my face – I love Austin
caught a favorite musician on Tuesday afternoon
and joined the fans collecting
polite, excited, reverent

caught a favorite musician on Tuesday afternoon
the stars were aligned
polite, excited, reverent
glad I stopped to see what the line looked like

Friday night drive

The last fall we lived in Waynesboro we spent most weekends at Hilton Head. Friday nights found my dad at the steering wheel, my mom beside him, and Bill, Jon and me in the back seat on the highway to the coast.

Outside the roads were dark, AM radio filled the inside of the car, the 5 of us too tired for much talk. We’d driven this road so many times. The car seemed to know the way.

Riding in the back our heads nodded to our shoulders, dozing to the dark and the hum of the road. Til the hum gave way to tires slowing against a grassy shoulder seconds before the bumper met the fence.

Somehow my dad missed the turn. Too long a week. Together Bill and I giggled. Our dad always did everything right. Between us tears rolled down Jon’s cheeks.

For the remainder of the drive the car was even quieter. We crossed the bridge on to the island and after a short time pulled on to the gravel drive. Home.