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OTHER POEMS
by McFee
 
Old Baseball
found under a Bush

The Whistler

Retirement

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The Tunnel

The rain would hold its breath
as we hissed into the tunnel, its exhilarating gloom,
dad snapping the lights on
and slowing way down to see if my sister and I could
hold our breath to the distant
arch of light, my mother scolding him for teasing us,
my sister flailing the seat
as she honestly hoarded her air like a penny diver
and I cheated again, stealing
oxygen through my nose but bulging my cheeks and eyes
in mock asphyxiation, always
waiting till we burst the drumskin of rain and day
and my sister had collapsed
gasping like a landed fish on the floorboard to finally
spout the astonishing breath
out of my false body, always my father's boy, always.

from Colander

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