eyes anchored
on empty beer bottles
amber sentinels separating
thoughts into fighting words
across a battlefield strewn
with cheese curls, potato chips
cheddar and crackers feeling too thick to swallow
warm chardonnay souring on the tongue
a brother-in-law
volleys “if Mo’ne
Davis was white…”
leaving the rest unsaid
though apologies would come
the damage was done
one voice lost to the complicit silence of others
many more opportunities
to sit at some holiday table
together measuring appropriate topics
weighing platitudes against risk
a generational gerrymandering
of conversations clipped and
careful to avoid popes and presidents
wars and whistle blowers
and now, even Little League
what does that leave us
but to agree on the weather, I guess
though not on the science of its cause…
Barry DeCarli
On Hammond Pond, Goshen, MA
November 30, 2014
©2014 Barry DeCarli
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