2004/ninety

A cool morning
on the deck,
trucks roar
by on the
highway.
Today your mother
is ninety years
old.
I’ll never
last that
long I know.
In fact I’ve
been weighing
my likelihoods
against the
guarantees
on the wood
floor we’re
about to put
down.
We know
the manufacturers
always win,
but in this case
who would that
be?

9/15/04