waving goodbye from a ship

i miss the payphone,

the milk man,

the ten cent bottle of coke..

i miss

the drugstore counter,

a grilled sandwich.

i miss the regular mail man.

i miss lying out in the yard.

the ocean.

the boardwalk.

hitch hiking with ten

dollars in my pocket.

i miss the butterflies,

the first kiss.

the first time we make love.

i miss rabbit ears on

the black and white tv,

a house full of dogs, cats

and kids.

i miss the broken screen door,

letting the flies in.

i miss the turntable

spinning the same record

for hours.

i miss the next door

neighbor. banging on the wall

to be quiet.

the paper route i had.

the dog named sundance.

my mother calling

me in for dinner.

my father waving goodbye

from a ship.