home

the youngest is scissoring
a cardboard critter family
she has crafted them
a sky-lit living room
with blankets and a chandelier

her brother is pondering
an age-old problem:
when will the two trains
cross paths
on their journey home?

her mom is reading
a brightly covered book
on loan, two weeks
from the wood-planked library
around the corner

her dad watches each of them
while he washes tomato sauce
from a large pot
listening to the cascading sighs
of Beethoven’s opus 131

the youngest has turned her attention
to father bunny
she is making him slacks
and a yellow plaid shirt:

what more could he ask for?