When she finally dies / she’ll meekly ask God why was it all / clattering highchairs, whiskers on stained sinks

At Jenner-by-the-Sea we scurry / over boulders to the place / where the breakers bear down

I made soup tonight, with cabbage, chard / and thyme picked outside our back door.

You sit at a window and listen to your father / crossing the dark grasses of the fields

When Dave Wheeler fielded the hard one-hopper / to short, he fired the ball to Melvin White

In the cool morning, bright-hot now from his bath, / my child’s child leans into my lap

I’m sorry for saying the heat death of the universe / when you asked what comforted me most

Don’t tell me there isn’t something pretty about you / (don’t tell me you don’t know it).

I cradle him, big kid curled like an infant, water rocking, / chlorine staunching his vivid knees, belly swollen, / legs blue.

If the places you go become you, / you must account for the drive-through / liquor store housed in the old carwash.