chatter downwind fills
up the glass baubles strung
from the ceiling and Zak
shifts back and forth
older and yellower,
still angry as ever
but Kynlee softens
him with her wide
eyes and inquiring
gaze, one leg to the
next, a sudden raucous
behind the white paned
doors, but the crickets
find their way back
into the hum--
Sometimes it just gets to be too much
he says, and we both look across the
way where a sliver of his wife can be
seen in the evening glow--
and I don't answer him
because we are no longer
children with a response
for everything, or teenagers
with an affinity for bragging
two adults with financed metabolisms
and organized problems
more chatter, a bit of song.
I am the last unmarried sibling.
I loll back on my heels and press
in to the quick air between us
yeah, I say.
yeah.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 9:29 PM UTC
chatter downwind fills
up the glass baubles strung
from the ceiling and Zak
shifts back and forth
older and yellower,
still angry as ever
but Kynlee softens
him with her wide
eyes and inquiring
gaze, one leg to the
next, a sudden raucous
behind the white paned
doors, but the crickets
find their way back
into the hum--
Sometimes it just gets to be too much
he says, and we both look across the
way where a sliver of his wife can be
seen in the evening glow--
and I don't answer him
because we are no longer
children with a response
for everything, or teenagers
with an affinity for bragging
two adults with financed metabolisms
and organized problems
more chatter, a bit of song.
I am the last unmarried sibling.
I loll back on my heels and press
in to the quick air between us
yeah, I say.
yeah.
on growing up and being quiet.
(c) Brooke Otto 2015
