for me you’ll always be that skinny Noxzema-skinned teenager
sunbathing   bikini-clad   under a 1960s sky

the little girl chants “closer, closer, closer”
as we drive in   unaware of the desperate levels of meaning
wonder if she’ll remember the day she got the little red plastic boat

oblivious fishermen talk drunk along the lakeshore
your disembodied laugh dances across water
breaking surface tension into strands of helpless light

the little boy clutches his yo-yo
says “I want to see the sparks”

© Catherine Jenkins, 2014