Hitching a ride, trusting a partner, marrying the same person three times
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Lee Rossi’s poems have appeared in Southern Poetry Review and North American Review. Now well into retirement in San Carlos, California, he continues to improve his homemaking skills, with a marked aptitude for preparing hot dogs and prewashed salads. He wonders if it’s too late to seek refuge in the priesthood.
Like pilgrims visiting the tombs of saints, / smoky hands of angels on our shoulders, / we wandered the medieval city, stone churches / and tall half-timbered houses leaning over / narrow streets.
Childhood, the first eternity, / as I wandered our vast acre, / trying to escape the sun.
I watch my son high in the magnolia / where branches thin. His sister / at the foot of the tree shrieks for him / to come down and play with her.