Monday, April 27, 2015
This is a poem about how it feels after you go to a
family reunion, and get to hang out with all the
We leave the reunion, go home
to a house that’s much too quiet.
No more tag or kick-the-can of
killer croquet with my cousins.
No more bloody war stories
told by my big-bellied uncles.
No more staying up late watching TV
while the grownups crazy-laugh
around the kitchen table.
Just us. Boring us.
Our family becomes
like a package of plums
at the supermarket—
so small and tight
I can hardly breathe.
from Relatively Speaking: Poems About Family
Posted by Ralph Fletcher at 8:20 AM