The Chevy's bed is full                                                                                                                                                    
of kids whose parents left--                                                                                                                                          
too busy now to stay                                                                                                                                                    
for practice bunts and plays.                                                                                                                                                    

My dad's delivering place                                                                                                                                              
to place and house to house                                                                                                                                           
so sure of every street                                                                                                                                                  
that driveways wave the truck                                                                                                                                           
towards open concrete.     

The players head inside—
since supper sits atop
their mothers’ stoves. I leave
the front to dad and join
my brother in back. The wires 
and poles along the road
are guides to home, our meal,
our can of Wolf we four 
will heat, divide, and devour.
                                                                                                                                                   


October 2023--Leander, TX