He growls like a bear,
Snarls like a gorilla.
Then groans like a logging truck,
and rumbles like a grown walrus.
He grunts and whistles,
Puffs, jerks, and snorts.
I stare at the clock,
Wishing the ruckus and the
Passing of time would ease up.
He awakens himself with a start.
And rolls over so we are grill to grill,
And grumbles, irritated, “You’re yawning…”
I’m sitting in the car.
It’s freezing outside.
I’m on a hilltop, parked outside a gate.
I’ve backed up to the gate
because mama always said,
“Always think of the getting out,
before you think of the getting in.”
My son is feeding a friend’s animals.
I am waiting for him.
It’s been ten minutes.
I keep looking back in my rear view mirror.
At what point should I get out and go see what’s going on?
Macabre scenes are running through my mind.
I banish them.
Then I catch sight of this scene in my rear view mirror.
And I am entranced in it.
I snap a million pictures.
He’s back, and says,
“Why are you smiling?”
“It’s the rear view.”
He doesn’t get it…