obviously “their” girls, yet
checking out other girls
walking by. Girls aren’t
a whole lot better, and this
is only the “checking” out
stuff. The actually “doing”
stuff behind each other’s
backs is almost as bad.
FOR EXAMPLE
In the distance, a couple arrives
very late to the game. Not long
ago, the cannon boomed the start
of the second quarter. The man walks
quickly, two steps in front of the woman,
up the steep hill from the east parking lot.
His near lope and the solid set
of his shoulders tell me he’s pissed,
or at least determined to reach
the gate before she does. She, on
the other hand, seems just as resolute
to continue at her own measured speed.
Way to go, lady. Don’t let him stress
you out. Whoa. Wait. As the man
crowns the hill, stomps into view,
his silhouette becomes very familiar.
I know him. Know him well, in fact.
It’s my dad. And she, I assume, is my mom.
THAT DETAIL IS CONFIRMED
As they get closer, as is another
assumption I made earlier. Dad