[Insert Whimsically Deep Title Here]

Addison

A baby boy strains against his restraints to see more than a row of pines

And catch a glimpse of his grandfather mowing the front lawn

The kitchen smells of smoke but not for lack of cooking skill

He marvels at the shadows of the cheap chandelier

He gets a special treat at the custard stand as the family sits in splinters and gravels

Death exiles many, and the closest first

The house is sold and memories become lucid dreams

The town itself seems to disappear

and rot like soiled logs

nestled between fists of granite

A church bus haphazardly made a camper

Sitting deep in the woods with no road to guide it

Nor tires to drive it

A child feels at home in a strange land

ancient smells of dying echoes

A shack replaces the bus

Four boys sleep in their birthright

They wake up frequently to chills

Of coyotes and cold closing in

on thin walls and a broken door

A man drives alone to an abandoned cabin

He parks on the closest road and hikes

It's insulated now but he still carries a gun

He finds a present at his door from the neighbors-

A single mother and her lone child

Who knew bears were so hospitable

The air reaks of empty woods

But he can still feel the large presence

of a silent grandfather