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Poem

The asphalt driveway is blackened over by rain 
sand bags lie in the corner of the garage in case water creeps in, some sheep scurry in distant fields 

Your elephant eyes are locked on the TV; 55 inches of electronic love
I liked lying under the moonlight on summer nights as moths danced towards the patio light I remind myself in melancholy moods, child please don’t cry, every season changes 

Your vehicle’s mileage spans out to El Dorado’s grave and back
The snares of your life keep drumming it’s slower now, consistent patters; the TV is staring back at you copper pennies lie in wait beside your remote control, everything has a place with you 

If I could tie a rope around your Will I would direct it towards my family, we are hopeful you will see us, and remember tossing your children in the air, serving crepes every Christmas morning and the brick house you lived in with your wife for more than two decades, a pool of tumbling memories without all the injures, it is ok to feel free, to be a part of a living zoo 

thunder rumbles past our yellow one-story apartment, somewhere swans sleep unaware of rain

swaying slowly when you stand, I’m starting to realize God balances us all out
cement like air fills my lungs as the newscaster gets soaked by yet another wave
 
staring blankly, you blink at the angel food cake on the counter and shuffle on, towards the Rio Grande 
bones of drowned years clamber past Nevada, Arizona, all the tumble weed states  

falling forward we catch ourselves each day, we shade our eyes from the glaring sun, as the dust gathers below the Grand Canyon
you shuffle in and switch the channel, the trumpets settle in my heart as you ask, how did it go today?

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