Becky Kennedy
Golfing
It's Sunday morning and sun the color
of honey spills on the kitchen counter;
it’s ten or eleven o’clock and they
fill our kitchen, our son and his new wife
and their friends and the laughing, the way that
people laugh when laughing is like breathing,
laughing about beer and golf and bad luck
and graduate school, laughing at jobs they’ve
had or never had, the two wives rolling
eyes, laughing, planning Sunday. His new wife
humming as if she were baking or were
planning something really nice like golfing
while you test your clubs in the living room
where I sort my photos. In the night you