About Sunday night

We're at the mall

And it's families and teenagers

And the little girls, cooped up all day,

Run through the crowds.

They want to ride the carousel

Which they do, but for some reason

The music is silent; they glide around the food court

On zebra and stallion, in strange silence.

We wander into Penneys,

Joining the mothers and daughters

Looking at drapes and linens

And the husbands, staring at where they'd rather be.

So then we're hungry and hike the long way

Down the main hall, through thinning crowds

For it's almost six; Fort Wayne closing up early

On the day of rest, at the church of mall.

To Red Robin, where it's warm and busy,

More families skipping right through meal prep

At home to full service at the restaurant;

It sounds good to us too.

We pile into a booth and assure the hungry girls

That we'll eat soon; it's menus and drinks

And want-do-you-want-from-the-kids-menu;

Cheeseburgers and corndogs and chocolate milk.

While we sip our drinks and wait we

Plan for the future: Christmas and Thanksgiving,

Ballgames and school programs; practices and

Shopping and visitors from out of town.

Like magic a meal appears, one we didn't shop for,

Cook, worry over, nor will we clean up--

Indeed, that seems like a perfect recipe for

A day of rest to us.

Soon we're done, and we tumble out of the booth,

Coats rescued, bags claimed, bills paid,

Girls bundled up, tired now, wanting carried,

We're all ready to head home.

Out into the night, a cold parking lot,

Wind whipping the big flag across Coliseum;

The little girls lift their faces to the sky:

Look, it's snowing.