Ramblewood Reunion
Rachel Eskesen
Silver haired Aunt Agnes pulls spinach, quiche out of the steel oven Una tames the sausage links that sizzle and pop on the stovetop. Steel smudged with tiny fingerprints behind a blue plastic ice chest. Black labs rub their wet noses oil my three-foot cousins waving magic sticks in the air, they disappear down the green overgrown trails.
In 3 - sided cabins divided by family, clenched eyes and pillow covered ears
fail to muffle the harmony of snoring.
The fire pit is a few red splinters, illuminating shadows in the woods.
We assist the attack on the wilderness,
empowering weak campfires to burst into aerosol infernos
we aim mom' s Aquaiiet hairspray to create another fireball.
Grandpa' s pipe hangs from the corner of his mouth, where a low laugh escapes
into the night.
Horseshoes plunge into the dirt, Canasta cards are reshuffled,
Eskesens vs. Kitleys battle with a volleyball.
The hot sand scorches our feet, green woven lawn chairs watch from the sidelines.
In the recycle bin, beer cans crush against a two-foot pile of
collapsed bores of wine.
Mom glares at the bin, it reminds her of failed livers.
my father's unclebrotherfathercousin breaks open his third 6-pack of Bud Light.
I cradle Megan' s hands
she rides oil my shoulders,
down to the docks
We escape
to collect seashell treasures.
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