The sun was high at the top of the sky over the lake
and I stopped at a gas station for a Coke.
I saw the headline and I wondered
if I had ever actually seen such a creature—

—No, no, sonny. Nothing that exotic
ever passed through our backyard,
except your grandmother.
She’d hang my sheets and shirts on the clothesline,
skirt and blouse whipping with wind.
She was a white bird caged with an old pigeon—

—Your mother does my laundry now.
She says the clotheslines are too old-fashioned
and that drying machines are faster and better—

—Well, Bigfoot may be out there,
I really don’t know.
I don’t know a lot of things anymore—

—No, sure. Go on outside and play
in the sunshine, like you should.
But stay in the front,
leave the clotheslines alone.
And if you see Bigfoot, give him my regards.