ice cream

in this one photo
that i keep in a box
with a hundred others
i see my father sitting
in the center of a row
boat, holding the oars
in his muscled arms,
and four skinny children,
smiling into the lens,
awaiting the trip
across the bay, without
life jackets, without
a clue as to where or
how, or the danger
that might lie ahead
in the green deep swirl of
water. but there is
the promise of ice cream
on this bright summer
in cape cod. but even
with that i can see that
i'm holding my breath
just in case.