Family

No one here is wanted by the police.
Everyone appears healthy,
And almost all can discuss
Movies and off-channel TV networks.

I walk the pier at Imperial Beach,
Where fishermen line both railings and
Occasionally land small sardines,
Only then can I imagine eternal sufferance.

Evan, my emaciated grandson,
Eats fries at the grill, protecting his paper plate
With an encircling arm.
At four ten, he best protect his food.

I’m the only current resident that thought
Harry Potter and “The Deathly Hallows”
Was a dreadful movie;
Two hours of water pistol fights.

All nine family visitors leave this week.
I shan’t make predictions for the next generation.
Look what a lousy job we’ve done.
Did I tell you, all had a very good time.