Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends
lived barely a wave away. I can see them now, Dad in trousers, work
shirt and a hat; and Mom in a house dress, lawn mower in one hand,
and dish-towel in the other. It was the time for fixing things: a curtain
rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress.
Things we keep.