we won’t let you go!
tackling me at the knees.
gretchen is laughing
at this new game with daddy.
jennifer is older and cries
her mother’s panicked eyes
telling her it’s no joke
with my books bundled in twenties
i lash myself down the stairs,
toss them into the vw bug and drive mari
to our roach-infested
love nest.
tenth street is a bongo jungle
where we live in sweet rhythmic sin,
joy swirling behind us
as we race toward the tawdry
end so surely up the road.
their arms hobble me yet,
though i now bundle my years
by the quarter century
and still await, with dread,
the accumulating tears.
Deya 2006
Patrick Meadows 1934 – 2017.
:’-( Yet, my heart feels comfort centuries later, for the little minds and hands he describes.