I find all of us,
my wife and two kids, Claire and Donald,
and old Sadie Mae is on her last leg.
The side porch is well-lit as the
orange in the sky darkens
and hides Ormond Street.
I climb with my son
to pick a long-ripened peach.
Claire will eat it.
She's the only one in our family
who can down soggy fruit.
Later that night,
the kids fall asleep to Jungle Book.
Burst-pulsed sounds from dolphins
jog along the surface
of the ocean
and crash in waves
to spit at me.
My wife grabs my hand and puts it in her pocket.
She buries me there.