Two sons come home on a bus, but
she’s unaccounted for, left
behind at the shore. I chide
the lady driver who should
have counted. And then—
cartoons of fish debating
on TV; people are arriving
for a party. Still no daughter.
Paint cans, plants in pots,
a rake. I try to extract
our green car from the
cellar. At last it stands
in the driveway of my youth
but where will I go to
find her, what if she
isn’t there, my dashing daughter?
