cracked sidewalks stained orange from forget-me-not sunsets tiger balm on sore shoulders, chapped lips, and mosquito bites will take care of you, me, and everything in between

chess boards on a dusty wardrobe, monopoly on snow days and Friday nights the sizzle of oil around a whole fish on the dinner table peeled persimmons, smoky incense, Chinese Shaoxing wine

photographs of ages past of teenage mom and dad— wide jeans, wide smiles, wide glasses road trips fueled by soda pop and grandpop and fruit gummies and striped swimsuits and endless gas stations

for some ponds made of water lilies and the same black crowned heron from summers past hot summers meant vivid dreams and fleeting regret and silk blankets cool to the touch

the basketball, orange-fleshed, its leather worn from countless driveway battles still glows quietly in the dark garage an old monk chants Amituofo the aging dog barks at the mailman and the frog telephone situated by the library whispers that nothing had really changed.