your son, in California.
tanned and blonde streaked,
lean and relaxed sends you
a photo of him
and his dog
walking the beach,
his girlfriend too, hand
in hand. he's eating an orange,
pointing at the sea.
you're happy that he's
happy.
you send him a picture
of a snow shovel,
your boots in the grey
salted slush
pushing out your car,
sucking on a cough drop,
your cheeks flushed with
February, the soft smudge
of a low sun on
the horizon.
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