Home By Now


by Meg Kearney


New Hampshire air curls my hair like a child's
hand curls around a finger. "Children?" No,
we tell the realtor, but maybe a dog or two.
They'll bark at the mail car (Margaret's
Chevy Supreme) and chase the occasional
moose here in this place where doors are left
unlocked and it's Code Green from sun-up,
meaning go ahead and feel relieved—
the terrorists are back where you left them
on East 20th Street and Avenue C. In New York
we stocked our emergency packs with whistles
and duct tape. In New England, precautions take
a milder hue: don't say "pig" on a lobster boat
or paint the hull blue. Your friends in the city
say they'll miss you but don't blame you—they
still cringe each time a plane's overhead,
one ear cocked for the other shoe.

Comments

  1. Who could blame her? I completely understand.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Quite the one-two punch those last two lines. How many of us still cringe, still wait for the other shoe. I was just thinking that today.

    ReplyDelete
  3. what a greatevocative shot..you should join shadow shot sunday...

    ReplyDelete

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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