five minutes
i swing after dinner while bugs
circle the light under the eaves of the garage
and stars above the corner pine
mom calls me in
its too dark
i plead my way into five more minutes and
count ninety-four stars then
stop
jump from the swing in midair and land
sift the pine needles that blanket the ground
in a
lush and prickly brown
then think back to
riding
my bigwheel down the driveway
dropping
the furniture polish bottle on my big toe
when
i tried to grab the batman cape
from
the shelf by the basement stair
the
egg carton and pipe cleaner Halloween spider
that
hung in my father's workroom
captain
kirk and his melted action figure leg
fixed
with a matchstick
pulling
the bar down, two times
helping
you move a chair in the basement
we
set it down on my fingers
you
said Mommy's sorry over and over