(for a childhood friend)
are as friendly as a 60s salesgirl at a notions bar, just a short trolleyline down the road
to Sears, and
as a boy's curly shock cute as a brother's who makes his daily foray whistling into streets
and Italian gardens
or who lies up on his top bunk underneath mag. shots of souped up cars & the stars; and
as rare as snow castles a sister crawls through before it all topples down, like a girl's dream
in a shared room
or gems she gathers at a prickly lakeshore, the waifish feet, smile knocked for a loop
by a mischievous sun
--both Linda and her lion!--always by a sun that watches children from the front porch;
and as
sad as dad who crouches beside the willow & watches it all burn down, in a tragic skein of
son and water (on one cold autumn night)