Giant’s Drum Kit

There’s melted Jr. Mints in her
mom’s van and they’ve been there
since her brother borrowed it to go
to the movies last summer.
They use mop handles as swords
and take out their frustrations on
each other.

During her softball games her father
and two of her uncles stand the whole
time; spitting sunflower seeds and offering
coaching advice loudly between sips of
diet Pepsi. They are the loudest of her fans
and also her biggest critics when it comes to how
she swings the bat.

There is a small stream near the fields where
her younger siblings and cousins jump from
rock to rock chasing each other in a higher stakes
game of tag that never ends. There aren’t many fish
in the water accept for the minnows that occasionally
get trampled by one of their missteps.

When it starts to rain they delay the game
and everyone has to run to their cars with
newspapers or coats draped over their heads.
Lightning strikes the mound and the powerful
sound it creates is like the bass of a giant’s
drum kit and his solo begins right now regardless
of the plans we had before.

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