We’re far from the seventeen flavors of hell
I run across in the course of my week,
things that are just never good: glue traps.
outgrown swing sets. waiting rooms. a cut
chapter. ignored subpoenas. the endodontist.
hospital cafeteria. durable power of attorney.
And yes it’s raining but it’s not 90 degrees
like it’s been for weeks, so the drops form
a lukewarm shower, the most refreshing kind.
I’m teaching him you’re not a true outdoorsman
unless you go out in bad weather. He teaches me
puddle time: downpours are inherently funny.
We’re going to stay out here a really long time, right?
Until we get absolutely soaked. Did you bring bags
for cleaning up after Jasper? We’re gonna need ten!
Penny on the sidewalk. Barely needed training wheels.
Getting stuck half-way through giant puddles.
The rooster tail of the water when he pedals so hard.
He’s teaching me joy but I’m teaching him joy,
and the dog, who hasn’t a lick of retriever in him,
shakes and looks at us as if we need to go in. We don’t.