Call It Our Happy Place
written by: Milagros Vilaplana
I tug his small hand as we prance muzzled
onto a spraying fountain of Bellagio joy.
Families of cutout people in an architectural model
suddenly start walking and talking to each other.
Some sit inside chalked circles on the lawn
while little girls run around shooting bubbles.
Last year’s round-the-clock-calendar
spooked our streets into ghost towns,
afraid to face the emptiness I pretended
to be the expert recluse, but today
I belong with all the lovely people who
masquerade their phantom smiles
clinging to their children at Glendale Galleria.
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