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Vacation

Lyn Lifshin


My mother always re-packed the trunk.
My sister stayed in the car, ate bologna sandwiches.
When we were younger we let our dolls turn
��brown in the air.
Packing for them was better than going

My sister stayed in the car, as if leaving now
��o be difficult.
My father wrote down every penny he spent.
Packing for vacation was better than going
We ate at Bill and Thelma’s for 99 cents a dinner.

My father kept a notebook where he wrote every
��cent he spent.
My mother had to coax him to go to musical theaters.
We ate at Bill and Thelma’s every night.
When I saw Brigadoon I wanted to never come back
��from fantasy.

My mother had to coax him to go to the musicals.
She beamed when he liked it.
I wanted to dance, live in a dream, never come
back
We needed the mists of the gloaming to blur
��what wasn’t said in the car

My mother beamed when my mother liked
��anything.
My sister was the beauty, better at ballet and boys.
I wanted to live in a dream, in fog.
My mother with her own dreams of father
��named me Rosalyn Diana

My mother beamed at almost everything I did.
After she died, a theater bought her clothes from the 40’s.
At least her clothes would be on stage.
She would have beamed, she would have liked being there
��to repack them.





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