Wish sometimes you'd met the folks
at a summer fish-fry, or
ice cream socials in the fall,
all the country neighbours there.
They'd ask pointed questions just
to make you jump, and God, they'd
love how smooth you answer back -
caution me - but they'd approve.
Wish you'd seen the orchard and
stand of pines between the field
of corn, fencerow, and the house.
Deer and coyotes mill about
at crack of dawn. Sighing quail
holds court with fieldmouse and dove.
Watch the sunset kiss the pond,
mosquito-bit, fond and warm.
Wish you'd been there at the end-
maybe I repeat myself,
retread lines I've said before.
Wish you'd stood in black beside
the three of us huddled in
our dried-up well of hurting.
I didn't need to be less
alone, just more together.
Wish you'd shared Thanksgiving once,
'fore the thought of giving thanks
broke like glass beneath our skin.
They'd treat you like they'd raised you,
spin a game of 'big fish' yarns,
make you count the playful lies,
warm your knees beside the fire,
meet again next year, same time,
Lord wills, and the creek don't rise.
Brevity Quest 2021