(rosarito)

Something about
the hotel
brings out stories.
In the lobby
I hear a man
telling his female
companion
about a trip
in the sixties
in a VW van.
Just as I have
told you,
of being here
thirty years ago
with another
husband,
of the place
where I was
photographed
in the grassy lawn.
And years later
when my daughter
turned fifteen.
I didn’t get a
chance to tell
you, though I
think I did
another time,
of the long red & white
lounging dress
I made for the
occasion,
a pattern I saved
longer than others.
Because of the trip,
no doubt.
It’s good to get
men away.
At home they
don’t give you
much time
for stories.
Even so –
I also didn’t
get a chance
to work in the
copper & brass
earrings she bought
which I later inherited,
a piece of which I still have.

3/3/99