Tuesday, May 31, 2022

Little Bunny Foo Foo

Wednesday, April, a school day,
In those days when the father
Still had his glass of OJ

And a hamburger patty,
No bun, for breakfast, then took
A tall, enormous thermos

Full of sweet, milky coffee
Out to the garage and drove
To the shop he owned, to work,

While the mother assembled
The four children, four through nine,
Into the station wagon,

To take three of them to school—
Circuitously, detours
To pick up other children

Here and there along the way—
So that the wagon was packed
With kids for the Baptist school.

The children arranged themselves
By genders and by friendships,
The two oldest girls squeezed in

The unsafe space between back
And middle seats, face to face,
Knees to knees, playing their games

Involving elaborate
Hand-clapped rhythms and nonsense
Chants that they would remember

Better than their route to school
Or classmates, or their classes
Down the long decades of days,

Picking up the field mice
And bopping them on the head.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.