Stressed Loon
Like when the popcorn flew
up into the air, yodeling
and laughing mixed as we poked fun
to release excited anxiety,
to release the tension in the room that followed,
of course even with the shouting
and screaming in fear, in amusement, in
the wooden house at the bottom of
the steep hill, with the lonesome
loon singing desperately into
the night, met joyfully with
a similar song, and we sang
and danced, and spilled hot
pasta all over the floor because
of the long drawn out wait, timed
perfectly, resulting in thunderous laughter,
and more screaming, and more crying, and more yodeling
while running around in circles and
chasing each other in the dark to
say: “Just happy to be here.”