shift,” he says.
“And make you forget all about Kate.”
Oh, Brother
I’m fishing socks out of the dryer an hour later
when Mike comes into the laundry room.
“Hey, Lizzie,” he says,
and I catch a whiff of stale beer
as he dumps his clothes
out of his gray duffel bag
into the washing machine.
“When did you come home?” I ask,
handing him the box of detergent.
“Late last night.”
He doesn’t use the measuring cup,
pours in too much soap.
“After a party?”
“How’d you guess?”
I hold my nose. “Ever hear of toothpaste?”
He cups his hand in front of his mouth
and inhales his own breath.
“Ahh, you don’t like Michelob mouthwash?”
I hate to admit—
as he puckers his lips
and pretends to try to kiss me—
that I miss these deep discussions.
So instead I say,
“Hope you don’t try to kiss other girls, smelling like that.”
Thoughts
When Mike left for college
a month ago
I thought we’d stay close—
maybe even grow closer.
I thought he’d call me up
and invite me down for a visit.
I’d pack a bag
quicker than I could click my camera
and off I’d go
living a college life
if only for a weekend.
I thought when he’d come home to visit
we’d hang out by the docks
and make up boat stories like we used to do—
who’s stowing away,
who’s sailing off with someone’s stolen loot,
who’ll wind up on a tropical island
or in a shark’s bloated belly.
But I thought wrong.
He hardly ever calls me.
The one trip I took
to Millbrook U
was when I helped lug stuff
into his dorm before Labor Day.
And I only see him now
when a pile of faded jeans
and smelly running gear comes home
crying to be cleaned.
And I don’t want to miss him.
But I do.
I Call Again
Carol answers the phone,
tells me Kate came home at dawn,
that she felt sick
and didn’t want to wake me.
And I feel sick
knowing she’s not.
Bright Penny Beach
“She probably has the flu,
so stop worrying,” Brian says
as we pull off our shoes and socks
later that afternoon
and walk along the water’s edge.
I love the beach in the fall—
no crowds, no searing heat,
no worrying about how
my bathing suit looks.
I worry less about Kate
when Brian finds
a long, weathered stick
and carves I love Liz
into the cold, wet sand
on Bright Penny Beach.
As the tide rushes in
and, with each ebb and flow,
smooths the surface of his words,
I imagine that Neptune himself
is sending our love
on a current from Cape Cod
all the way to Tahiti.
The Travel Channel says
Tahiti
is the most romantic place on earth.
But I stop believing
when Brian
kisses me on the shore
of Bright Penny Beach.
At the Track Last Spring
The first time I noticed him
he was trailing
too close for Mike’s comfort
as they ran sprints along the track.
After the whistle, Mike said,
“You better slow down, man,”
smiling, shaking his head
just over the line,
sweat flying off his hair like rain
off a wet dog’s coat.
Brian laughed,
patting his glistening neck with a towel,
and told Mike,
“You better speed up.”
“You ready to go?” I asked my brother
as I leaned against the chain-link fence,
staring at this shiny new boy.
“Brian, this is my sister, Lizzie.
Lizzie, this is Brian,
just transferred here from Wilton.
He’s a junior, like you.”
I took in his deep brown eyes,
his sandy blond hair,
his beautiful God-help-me lips
as they formed the word hello .
“Check it out, Brian!
My sister’s speechless!” Mike teased.
I grabbed Mike’s towel from the fence
and whipped it at his head
as Brian smiled.
At me.
Time to Study
“Sorry, I can’t stay,” Mike says to Mom
as she lays pale blue dinner plates out on the table.
“But we’ve barely seen you,” she says.
“And dinner is ready.”
Dad asks, “What’s the rush?”
Mike slings his duffel over his shoulder
and grabs a steaming new potato
from the serving bowl,
tossing it from hand to hand to cool it down
before popping it in his mouth.
“I have to study,” he says
“And make you forget all about Kate.”
Oh, Brother
I’m fishing socks out of the dryer an hour later
when Mike comes into the laundry room.
“Hey, Lizzie,” he says,
and I catch a whiff of stale beer
as he dumps his clothes
out of his gray duffel bag
into the washing machine.
“When did you come home?” I ask,
handing him the box of detergent.
“Late last night.”
He doesn’t use the measuring cup,
pours in too much soap.
“After a party?”
“How’d you guess?”
I hold my nose. “Ever hear of toothpaste?”
He cups his hand in front of his mouth
and inhales his own breath.
“Ahh, you don’t like Michelob mouthwash?”
I hate to admit—
as he puckers his lips
and pretends to try to kiss me—
that I miss these deep discussions.
So instead I say,
“Hope you don’t try to kiss other girls, smelling like that.”
Thoughts
When Mike left for college
a month ago
I thought we’d stay close—
maybe even grow closer.
I thought he’d call me up
and invite me down for a visit.
I’d pack a bag
quicker than I could click my camera
and off I’d go
living a college life
if only for a weekend.
I thought when he’d come home to visit
we’d hang out by the docks
and make up boat stories like we used to do—
who’s stowing away,
who’s sailing off with someone’s stolen loot,
who’ll wind up on a tropical island
or in a shark’s bloated belly.
But I thought wrong.
He hardly ever calls me.
The one trip I took
to Millbrook U
was when I helped lug stuff
into his dorm before Labor Day.
And I only see him now
when a pile of faded jeans
and smelly running gear comes home
crying to be cleaned.
And I don’t want to miss him.
But I do.
I Call Again
Carol answers the phone,
tells me Kate came home at dawn,
that she felt sick
and didn’t want to wake me.
And I feel sick
knowing she’s not.
Bright Penny Beach
“She probably has the flu,
so stop worrying,” Brian says
as we pull off our shoes and socks
later that afternoon
and walk along the water’s edge.
I love the beach in the fall—
no crowds, no searing heat,
no worrying about how
my bathing suit looks.
I worry less about Kate
when Brian finds
a long, weathered stick
and carves I love Liz
into the cold, wet sand
on Bright Penny Beach.
As the tide rushes in
and, with each ebb and flow,
smooths the surface of his words,
I imagine that Neptune himself
is sending our love
on a current from Cape Cod
all the way to Tahiti.
The Travel Channel says
Tahiti
is the most romantic place on earth.
But I stop believing
when Brian
kisses me on the shore
of Bright Penny Beach.
At the Track Last Spring
The first time I noticed him
he was trailing
too close for Mike’s comfort
as they ran sprints along the track.
After the whistle, Mike said,
“You better slow down, man,”
smiling, shaking his head
just over the line,
sweat flying off his hair like rain
off a wet dog’s coat.
Brian laughed,
patting his glistening neck with a towel,
and told Mike,
“You better speed up.”
“You ready to go?” I asked my brother
as I leaned against the chain-link fence,
staring at this shiny new boy.
“Brian, this is my sister, Lizzie.
Lizzie, this is Brian,
just transferred here from Wilton.
He’s a junior, like you.”
I took in his deep brown eyes,
his sandy blond hair,
his beautiful God-help-me lips
as they formed the word hello .
“Check it out, Brian!
My sister’s speechless!” Mike teased.
I grabbed Mike’s towel from the fence
and whipped it at his head
as Brian smiled.
At me.
Time to Study
“Sorry, I can’t stay,” Mike says to Mom
as she lays pale blue dinner plates out on the table.
“But we’ve barely seen you,” she says.
“And dinner is ready.”
Dad asks, “What’s the rush?”
Mike slings his duffel over his shoulder
and grabs a steaming new potato
from the serving bowl,
tossing it from hand to hand to cool it down
before popping it in his mouth.
“I have to study,” he says
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