Let’s meet in Forest Park between the supine fir in the meadow
by Lenora Rain-Lee Good

and the thimble berry bush covered in bird-pecked red berries
or maybe at Alpenrose Dairy, between the milking barn with the smell of hay

and warm milk, now and then cow pies, and the creamery where the ice cream
is made; we could meet in the vacant lot where old man Gregor’s house burned

down around him, and see if we can find his buried treasure beneath
the Oregon Grape bushes full of purple ink-filled berries and tiny knives

that never bother the myriad spiders who happily make homes between them,
or at the old Speck’s drive in, between the best burgers in town and the French fried

onion rings, you know, where Harry Hickey used to trap Sally Santos between
the pickup stand and the men’s room door to steal a fry, a kiss–because

Harry was the owner’s son, and Sally had a crush on him; or between the pages
of a Stephen King novel, where it’s too scary not to cuddle and too quiet to scream

as we run through the summer rain to reach the ocean and dive between the waves
searching for pirate’s treasure, mermaids, playful otters, or maybe a golden shell.

                         after reading Let’s meet somewhere outside time and space by Diane Seuss


 

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