Tsunami Waves from the Washer
Mary Winters
They finally left on a fishing trip.
Cottage to yourself and the whole day
in front of you...
It's already too quiet...
they took the only car.
Waving them off you laughed,
said you'd have the lemon sauce read...
Maybe I should have gone with them.
Nothing can stir the stillness
except a volcano thrusting up
beneath the driveway.
Incinerating the garage,
the neighbor's cat, the evergreen
that was a Christmas tree in the 1940s...
Imagine the look on their faces.
Except locusts stripping
the yard to bare earth,
sheriff's sale emptying the house...
They won't be able to top my tale.
Fire sweeping down from Hyannis,
clam shack's fryer blew up...
