Gangly boy, Indian style
by the bent and beaten
accordion door of the
townhouse garage. Knocking
off surrounding shingles,
playing ricochet—”catch” takes
two—with a fuzzed-out,
soggy yellow tennis ball
‘til he loses it to traffic.
Mother works a second
shift tonight, so he will make
blue-boxed pasta again. The
five pm fathers return
to neighborhood homes
almost all at once, and wives
shoo them inside with
singed dish towels, as if
keeping a secret.
(2001)
