Summer Popcorn

Measure twice, cut once, 

but with you I measure three times,

get the angles right, 

hold the planter box boards

steady while you hammer.

Do you want to try?

I don’t want to try. The hammer, the

bare fingers, they scare me:

I’ve seen your thumb blue, nails black,

seen you flex your hands, say,

It’s not so bad, kid,

but you wince when you don’t see me

peeking at you, later, at the drive-in movies,

hands in the popcorn we brought from home

because you value a dollar, because

you like your butter layered.

And now, when I hang a bunny picture

above my own daughter’s crib, I remember how

you told me to never use a hammer in a hurry.

And when I eat waffles, I like my syrup 

in every square.

And when I travel, I get to the airport early.

And when I watch a movie, I always layer the

butter in my popcorn.

Emily Bulicz-Arnelien