the man who is my neighbour
draws mouthfuls of tobacco
from curved stem of his pipe
the curve cools the smoke
he smiles and the puff is
beautiful; an aura around his head
i think of my grandmother in her chair
laugh out loud at the molecules that
held her together for ninety seven years
she was once a little girl who
kissed a boy for the first time

i am also amazed that distance
equals rate, times, time and am
dumb-struck by the square root
of minus one

and all the angels fall
every last one of them
with a thud that makes me
look underneath the bed
and close the wardrobe door
before i can go to sleep

i know children and teens
their chests bitten through
by war, red like the river's mud

i cling to nights he told me
he'd love me forever and
i'd put my lips around his
then he'd kiss my mouth
with his tongue

our molecules were a
fumbling grace as we
laughed about the
beautiful distance between us

i cling without shame to friends
who i fear will leave when i do
something unforgivable because
i am filled with unforgivable things

i hug close two great loves of my life
and whisper i love you
hoping they understand when i don't

fear is the old angel over in the living room
ignoring us and reading a book
and sitting in a rocker that's rocking and rocking
and suddenly i know he's old enough
to be a grandfather but he's really you
and somehow he knows why
time makes you look like you do
when nothing ever made is

ever the same more than once