arts & leisure
home is where the time is
in lepoard-print journals and crushed shoeboxes
photographs with orange spots (water damage from the flood)
I smooth the creases and my father says, “I don’t remember that.”
or, “were we on vacation?”
home is where the Times is.
pieces of yesterday, scattered sections of weeks ago–
a slice of October still sits in the living room.
seasoned with eraser crumbs (crossword abandoned.)
I read the Sunday Styles
in my church clothes (jeans are O.K.)
and later with my mother under the Costco blanket.
We forget the wine in the freezer
Accidentally preserving something that improves with age.