Dear Izzy, Max, and Kate,
small voices in whispers beneath the trees
of our front yard.
Hiding our house from the world.
The same house that didn’t feel like enough
not so long ago.
Looked different last night
in the moonlight.
Our dark street.
I sat on the steps of our big front porch.
No porch lights
A dim lamp lit behind our front door
You ran through the yard
shoeless, pajamas, hair still damp from your bath time
“I’ll catch one,” you said, Kate.
dramatic pause. Smile.
“If I can.”
Then you ran back into the shadows beneath the trees
became a silhouette again. At your brothers side.
Your hair bouncing in ringlets of curls.
Soon you returned to the porch with a firefly cupped lightly in your hand
You smiled “Look!”
And you each took a turn holding it.
“One more?” you said.
“Last chance.” you said.
“I’ll catch one. If I can.” you said.
I sat on our porch that suddenly, just this week, feels like a home
instead of something that needs upgrading,
So we’re not left behind.
Well past your bedtime.
Silhouettes running barefooted, giggling, leaping
and grasping at things in the air.
“There will be more later this summer,” I said as a matter of fact.
Still clinging to the idea of more being better.
“There are so many now,” you said.
I love you,
Mon: lifted weights
Tues: Swam 1900
Wed: Ran 6 miles / Biked 25 miles
Thurs: Ran 10 miles