I can't believe its so late
in my life.
I can't believe a child of mine
can join the Marines
The coldness of a choice and the need to let go
I can't believe
how many dead people reside in my Rolodex, waiting for my eye
to bring them back
just a name to slide by, brings color, scent
a little house,
a painting a church a veteran
That mechanic, he died on a death march some fifty years ago
he was my son too.
I am all tangled with dead people
I don't know why I should stay here anymore.