it’s the second saturday in august–

school starts in two days

i feel the car roll to a stop in the grass, signaling we made it
the air is hot and thick, my hair sticking to my neck
walking up to the house is quiet–
but in a few hours it won’t be
it’s the second saturday in august, it feels like a national holiday
people pack in, piling mountains on their plates
the hunt for an open chair ends–
the floor isn’t so bad
there’s laughing and talking–
someone’s crying in the kitchen
it’s the second saturday in august, the days are getting shorter
shoes abandoned by the door, bare feet encourage the comfort you already feel
as cousins take their walks and aunties have their talks, i look around one last time something felt different–
but it was all the same scene
we didn’t know the last one was the last one as we all said goodbye

it’s the second saturday in august, and there’s no national holiday