By: Danny Thomas
as i sit in the dusk summer light
on the back porch
of the house i grew up in
among the remains of yesterday’s
wake for my father
listening to a group of kids
on the next street
play kick the can
or hide and seek
that induces hollering
and general sounds of summer joy…
i am struck by how much they sound exactly like
we must have sounded
my brother and i
and the neighborhood kids
thirty-odd years ago
and, yet again,
by how this cycle
for all its hardship
is a beautiful thing…
a wonderful, terrible, beautiful thing…
and i am filled with a melancholy gratitude.
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Originally published on The Seattle Lesbian
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