Glimpses through Mirrors

The first day that really smells like September.

Crisp, cool, requiring a sweatshirt.

Seeing the millrace and being

taken back

to Autumn of 2009 in Pennsylvania.

A beautiful time in a beautiful state.

Branches snapping and feet hitting water.

Rain flooded the drainage ditch.

They were there

  to explore the drainage tunnels and an adjoining creek.

One girl was homeschooled, 

the other simply truant.

They wandered for hours,

not coming home until the sky was dark

   and their cold damp clothes became unbearable.

Amother would get dropped off

  by a Port Authority

every evening around 7.

She had enough time to eat supper

and watch an episode of one of her shows,

before she'd pass out and wake up

eight hours later

  to start all over.

The two girls would put on matching Heelys

  and skate down every steep road

  found near Pillar Drive.

Sometimes they'd venture over to Baskin Robbins

to get waffle cones with two scoops,

  and pretend they felt like actual kids.

Two mothers watch their

  twelve year olds play together.

Karen mentions Emily's nearing birthday;

  it's on the twentieth of this month.

Karen wouldn't end up getting Emily a single thing that year.

  Emily's friend would never understand.

Karen's friend most likely DID understand.

Karen's friend was also tired

  of being tired.