"No, I've never heard Yuck," she said all small as I was already shuffling to the Spotify station that had cushioned my cold drives home for weeks. When we got to the red house with the red curtains I held a dog quick with slobered kisses and there was no beer.
But before that was a VHS camera as well as the fuzzy duster mics, christmas lights, plenty of beer.
Then there was the midway Waltz and the way I watched, holding on to no one until I spun feet flying to a Polka til birdie in a cage, promenade.
2 bloody mary's later, the latter one free, home again as the mold settles on our garden,
as you take a tumble in ice torn leaves.
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