Tuesday, May 05, 2015
all we lack
All we lack is fireflies and our contentment will be complete.
Our shoes will be shed as soon as we get home, and we will don t-shirts from places we've loved.
We will sit outside and talk about the day's events; our conversations will meander.
My husband will check the grill so the onions don't burn up, while the dogs lope around the bushes in an endless game of chase.
At dusk we will hear a rustle in the sky and look up in time to see small bats fly overhead.
George will rock in the hammock, its edges wrapped over him like a tamale.
His brother will try to shoot baskets in the dark and laugh when he cannot.
All we lack is fireflies.