carrying in
groceries.
his son with him,
the boy's hand
unleashed from his
mother.
it's the father's turn
this weekend.
the dog on a leash.
they will barbeque
out back.
hang the flag
on the post.
i'll smell the burn
of charcoal,
see the ball in the air
as they play catch.
i'll see the look in the
child's eye, wondering
how things
got this way.
where does it go
from here?
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