Our self-guided Wike begins with soggy sneakers. Our path emerges from wet, high grasses near the driveway to Mountain Laurels. We find a path to Notchville Park and take the loop down to the Reservoir. Turning back and ascending the steep hill, we reach Morse Mountain Lodge. There, our way continues up Wire Road, named for the fancy of mine-owner Morse’s wife. She wanted a telephone, so his workers ran the wire. We reach a brook that cascades into falls. Turning left at a junction, we cross a bridge. Mira remembers it.
“It’s where we break on the Morse Mountain hike.”
seated brookside scolding blue jays over the babble
Frankie takes the first bounce and screams. Higher and higher, he goes, rebounding off of the trampoline, secured by bungie cords attached to a harness and a hydraulic arm. He does a flip.
The attendant says, “That will tire him out.”
I answer, “Do more.”
up and down towering above him ancient pines
Our trip to Family Karaoke ends with he and I playing life-size chess. We Call it a draw on account of drizzle.
coming home sound of steady rain falling
Photo by Dino Reichmuth
first published in Image Curve, July 25, 2019
for dVerse Poets’ OLN. (Pubtended by Linda Lee Lyberg). The pub is open! Come join us!
Frank J. Tassone 
Leave a reply to Victoria C. Slotto Cancel reply