cousins

we playfully raced
to the back fence
in a yard I had known
since before I was born

—my cousin and I—

the cousin the age
of my grown kids
the span of our ages
a generation apart

she missed
all those things
that we cousins of the
same generation did together

like—

picking up apples,
running to catch the train
for a wave from engine or caboose,
holding clothespins
under the clothesline
for Grandma
studying her apron
and the sides of her smile,
feeing magically accosted
by her stovetop fragrances
and specialties such as
chicken and dumplings
goulash, apple pies
all before entering the house,
sniffing out the freshly baked
granny cookies while
seeking approval for the milk
to accompany just one…
or maybe two

and—

catching the light from
the kitchen under the bedroom door
knowing she was there
in her chair
in the wee hours
of a sleepover morning,
NOT climbing on the grape arbor
but letting the concord grapes
when ripe fill our senses
tasting from memory
the jelly and juice to come,
walking to the Dairy Bar
down the street and around the corner
poking, picking at one another
jesting, laughing
arms swinging at our sides
keeping rhythm
with our braids, songs, or chatter
thinking about those
soft twist ice cream cones

All that joy and longing showed up alongside me
in heart, human form, and sweetness
during that simple, single race to the back fence.

for Elena and the same generation cousins... and the generations to come
it's been 29 years, still thinking of her...