Vacation

for Cadíz

Mommie (she said
                   declaration
                   out of the blue, one day)

Mommie (never, with her,
                   a question)

I liked the vacation in Carbondale
      (she said)
      better than the one in the Bahamas
      or the one in Mexico.

(better than the one in the Bahamas?
      two years ago
      blue sky, pink beaches
      turquoise water
      kids’ club with scuba diving
            swimming
            snorkeling
            snacking

      when he was still my husband
      he asked if he could go with us
      he said I’d like to spend
            thanksgiving with my family
      I heard I’d like to spend
            thanksgiving with you
      that was before

      warm water, sun toasted skin
            our children’s on the beach
            his against mine
      thanksgiving dinner in sandy swimsuits
            and bare feet)

Really, Cokie? (I ask)

(better than the one in Mexico?
      blue sky, white beaches
      three years ago this new year’s

      that was even longer
      before he moved out
      and I moved on)

Oh, yes (she says,
                   open, earnest,
                   ten-year-old heart
                   never broken)

Why, Cokie (I ask)

Oh, Mommie (she says
                         as if it’s a joke
                         we both know)

Because we didn’t have to go to kids camp
Because we got to go biking
      and in the hot tub
      and fishing
      and throwing rocks in the river

(she goes on
      I still don’t get it
      Carbondale
      blue sky, hot tears
      screaming communal rage with my friend
            whose tiny house we invaded
            my children, my pain, and I)

And because, Mommie,
      you did all that stuff with us
(she’s telling the story of the things
      we did
      I get it now
      the things we did)

Cokie (I say)
             I liked it, too.