Thicket

In April I watched my daughter

struggle to take her first breath of air

in May I watched my mother

struggle to take her last

all the while the spring rains

fell across the rolling earth.

Now it is August and the museum 

of days deepens into red.

My father eats dinner alone by the window

watching the northern clouds burn

as they sail into the night.

Remember swimming out

to the far dock for the first time?

If you grow too tired

you can float on your back and rest.

We are building a fort in the thicket

of love called family.

We are swimming out together

across the lake of time.

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