driving my dad to work

the sounds of NPR

and elephants from the Detroit zoo.

along for the ride,

i didn’t make plans then.

i spent years stacking so many

small, precious stones.

now the ground is uneven

and the plan doesn’t work anymore.

i bury the stones and hope for rain.

there was a plan

but now, in its place,

a story.

i listen for sounds


maybe an elephant or

a car pulling up.

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