It is told

I cast stones, follow them down
with my eye
everyone loves a happy ending 

                                                        a memory of my father, hand raised

                                                        to give me 

                                                        a high five or a hug or a wave hello 

the child irrevocably lost somewhere 

although only 

in books and movies and video games 

                                                       doesn't everyone love a good story?
                                                       even when 
                                                       it runs off inexplicably like water?

frequently, I too have taken to a bed 

planting crops

in the soft dust of worlds being born

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Day: I didn't leave home today. I attended UU online, graded online for hours, read for hours, gardened and walked in the yard for hours, Nu met friends for dinner and was gone for hours, and then R stopped by to give me a massage--for one hour. I think that was the high point of my day. Spent some time being miffed with Big A, and that was the low point. (Raced through Jessamine Chan's School for Good Mothers and now am deep into Zadie Smith's The Fraud.)

Pic: Max and Huck at sunset yesterday. Golden hour; golden babies.