I.

not exactly

intimations of immortality.

unlike one of my daughters,

I have no birth

day recollections. (hers of the dip into

a bathtub wash, scented with dried herbs

and rose petals)

indeed, true that - I trust her recall.

(asked about the time of my birth – 

for curiosity or astro calculation,

I confess to not knowing,

though there must be a timestamp

somewhere in my documents to

clock the orrery of the universe 

and know, for good and ill, my

traits and fates.

I largely disbelieve it

though sometimes come close – but

blown by the wind of the spheres? I 

often do

that which I would not)

I do remember

laying in a bassinette 

in sun, on a porch

and seeing my grandfather, Cicero,

bending to look in and smile.

first visage and last for me.

gone before I was much past a year,

he crossed over at 74.

a sweet and misinformed friend

messaged me: happy 85th!

I took it for a typo but thought how

suddenly, grandchildren make me 

aspire to such an age

not to mention a planet with which

they might, as well.

let 75 be moment sufficient. let it churn

the pot of this solitary day. 

let it summon recollection and ask:

what time is it on the clock of the universe?

the clock of our life?

the clock of my heart?

II.

dismembered recollections of a Gazan infant

end in rubble, intimations of Death with a capital D.

fire strikes a camp and spreads tent to tent,

displaced lives and bodies charred stiff,

bitter foretaste of wildfire and the nuclear storm, 

ash in our mouth.

the hands on the bulletin clock of the world

reach for midnight’s end,

held yet back, by What, by Whom?

the movement of intercessions embodied,

the tented communities of learners holding space,

spreading faster than flames,

enduring the gas and official blows,

endowments dragged into the light to be divested,

streets overflowed, bridges blocked,

weaponmakers slowed.

capitol buildings shut down,

state department resignations,

flotillas loaded with aid and courage,

sitting judges hearing, honoring

law between nations,

tax refusal rising again,

poems, prayers, murals, the dance irrepressible,

all refusing to forget.

in-deed, re-membering.

June 2, 2024