if i had stopped dancing long enough, i would have called.
to let you hear the talking heads tribute band,
and to tell you how i hope i dance like those ladies when i’m almost-old,
fearless and so very free.
but never let me cut my hair like theirs. please and thank you much.
if i had only thought to take more photos,
of sister three’s visit to christmas city.
i could show you the height and laugh and glow of the girl,
a decade behind yet light years ahead.
i would have, should have saved you one,
from our barbecue and celebration.
strawberry, white chocolate, & blue.
between wiffle ball, burgers, and charades, i fear i missed my chance.
you’ll have to come again . . .
the summer is sweet here; i swear it.