What was opening the door
those years ago to let our four kids
one by one followed by the dog
into the back seat of the old compact car
we’d parked in the driveway
next to the down-hill road because
the battery went dead the day before—
what, but a prayer?What were our arguments
as we tried to time my pushing
the family down the road and your
taking your foot off the clutch
to start the car, through instead bringing it
to a dead stop over and over—
what, but an agreement to go on
despite our limitations?
What was the moment
in the midst of our despair
when the engine suddenly caught
and you roared away and came back
for me, and I got in by the soda can
on the floor and the dog now sitting
between us on the emergency brake,
the whole family smiling
as the trees broke apart faster and faster
above our heads—what, but a blessing?
