for Doris Russell

23 Dec

for Doris Russell (“Nammie”) 8/31/26-12/22/2017

A brook filled with minnows behind your red house, sings to the stars

we set up tents for

after a family reunion day of playing Bocce.

A bird feeder by your breakfast table,

melts blue jays into blueberries

tomato soup and bandaids

pianos and your beautiful handwriting.

Holographic stamps of toucans and charging antelopes send butterflies

soaking in a bowl of envelopes.

We waited for you while canoeing in the lake at Camp Seely,

telling the story of The Monkey’s Paw

around a campfire with s’mores.

And there is still a boardwalk.

Will you hold my hand?

Teach me to tie my shoe again?

It’s time to ride horses

through the hayloft at dusk.

There are still duckpins to shatter.

There is unknown whispering wisdom.

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