red white and blue

i hang an American flag

on the pole outside my house

for the 4th

of July.

suddenly

eggs are flying

in my direction.

the neighborhood Karens

and Darrens

are out in full

force

with their blue hair

and placards.

they're hissing

and blowing

whistles.

he's one of them they scream

into their megaphones,

he's one of them.

they're carrying

torches 

and pitchforks.

he's a believer in God

and country,

in common sense.

how dare he.

he needs to go.

this way of thinking

in our neighborhood

must end.

returning the chain saw

as i stand

in line at the grocery store,

returning

a chain saw

i bought on Amazon,

my mind wanders.

i think about Betsy,

the girl i grew

up with, who lived next

door.

i don't know why

she's on my

mind,

but she is,

her red hair and freckles

her skin

like alabaster.

her knobby knees

and the space

between her teeth.

i linger there, until

it's my

turn to return

my item back to where

it came from.

delaying the execution

while

leaving the house in a hurry

in my new

black suit

and glossy shoes,

i stop

and notice

that the bronze mail

slot

in the door is loose,

so i grab

a screwdriver to tighten

up the screws,

but then see

that the metal has been

darkened by

sun

and rain,

age.

so i find some steel

wool

and soap to scrub it up

and bring

it back to life.

to put a shine upon

it's busy spring

door.

i take my jacket off

and roll up my sleeves.

the phone rings and rings.

but i don't answer it.

perhaps there are other

days

to get married.

the cat's eye marble

you never

put your favorite marble

in the middle

of the dirt

drawn

circle,

as you and the rough

boys

gathered

on dungaree knees

to shoot

them from your thumb

and fist.

the blue cat's eyes

with silver

flecks

embedded in the glass

never

was put up to be won

by

other kids.

it sits now in a bowl

upon

your desk.

still beautiful,

still safe.

V. W.

with the beauty of her

words

and tales

behind her,

she filled

the pockets of her long

black dress

with stones

and walked out

into the river,

further and further

until the water

crested over her

head,

and down she went

with

her fine pointed

boots no

longer touching

sand.

her hat floated on

the surface

where she once

was.

and then out

came a raised hand,

perhaps,

in a final

gesture

of farewell.