Astronaught in
Life Poems
The old woman speaks in Spanish
accents and enunciations of pier diving:
Lake Michigan, jagged rocks,
being wind-blown. I offer:
slice of peach. I tell her I've worked
at NASA, and the air is too fresh since.
She rolls her eyes, white slip showing.
She knows I am only twenty-five.
Camping trips, birthday parties,
she says, smaller details.
After the war...
Peaches aren't in season anymore.
This sky-fallen one and I met her.
We used to pier dive, every birthday:
sixty five. She had the best ghost
stories like the one about her
post-war shoe-salesman husband.
By
echoshindig
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