Playtime

I’m making a fixed world. Roenin

rolls together yellow and blue Playdoh

on the dining room linoleum.

A crack in an ice shelf grows

eleven miles in six days, drops

into ocean—calving,

they call it.

I can’t get the cracks out!

my nephew pants.

I dip my fingers in water,

smear green until the lines

disappear. My wrists,

the fake-knotted floorboards,

the knees of my jeans—

all as cerulean as the sea rising.