One day the children played
in the kitchen.
in the cellar.
in the yard.
The yard looked like
an island in the sea.
The children forgot their
when a girl taught them
folded paper boats.
Late afternoon, whispering, they lay
in a sandbox.
on the sidewalk.
in the grass.
Each knew the others had
brothers, sisters, dogs.
They traded blood oaths that foretold
at what cost.
I have more love than ever.
Our kids have kids soon to have kids.
I need them. I need everyone
to come over to the house,
sleep on the floor, on the couches
in the front room. I need noise,
too many people in too small a space,
I need dancing, the spilling of drinks,
the loud pronouncements
over music, the verbal sparring,
the broken dishes, the wealth.
I need it all flying apart.
My friends to slam against me,
to hold me, to say they love me.
I need mornings to ask for favors
and forgiveness. I need to give,
have all my emotions rattled,
my family to be greedy,
to keep coming, to keep asking
and taking. I need no resolution,
just the constant turmoil of living.
Give me the bottom of the river,
all the unadorned, unfinished,
unpraised moments, one good turn
on the luxuriant wheel.