Tim Kahl
 
 
 

FAMILY DRIFTWOOD
 

The essence of things is beyond agreement, mystery, an assertion
that a barrier exists.  A wall around China breaks all ten
commandments.  That summer we took our wives to Myrtle
Beach.  The conversation was stilted, hurried and eventually our
sons and daughters sifted the sand looking for fondled beads.  It
was the best time of year to look for love at the beach.  The water
was cool, the sun and its ancient crying.  Beautiful redheads were
everywhere.  They were left to pause, lingering for a man,
waiting for deliverance from the same questions haunting each
family member.  Questions of need and balance--the mystery of
hurt on a name which is soft without vacation from longing.
The name with its moorings is washed away and the sons and
the daughters are roaming beaches full of people they will never
meet.  Tanned bodies were leaving prints in the sand during that
summer my wife and I tried to explain to our children where in
the world driftwood comes from.