Grampa’s been golfing
in the house again.
The junk mail from Sears
arrives in twos, but you throw
the first piece out
almost immediately and keep
the second one, in case
we need a duvet.
Last week I drove by the old
condo near the train yard.
The new tenants, who aren’t
the same new tenants that cut
down the birch when we first
left rollerblades in the back
of the basement, seem nice.
On the front porch, the door-
mat has a portrait of an oriole
and the word “welcome”
in French, which I didn’t
know until I asked, which was
after I invited myself in
and told them about
Grampa and how he’s been
golfing in the house
as of late.
This is a reprint of work originally published in Rabbit Catastrophe Review.
Dillon J. Welch has a BA in English from the University of New Hampshire. His writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Gargoyle, Word Riot, & Red Lightbulbs, among others. Find out more about him here: http://embellishthelawnmower.wordpress.com.
