Exodus

Brother’s on the roof with Ouija board wings. Sister taps on the window with faucet fingers, tears on sticky soft cheeks. Mother hums warm wax melodies while she orchestrates brandy cherry cobbler symphonies. Knock-kneed neighbor kids thrust ivory-tipped elbows between grinning ribs around the autumn-bare crepe myrtle. Father grows a mustache and shuffles holes into brown slip-on loafers. Brother inhales the sky and leaps up into a passing goose V.