Dear Nana,
The weather here, hot. Slow burning heat your
toaster oven door left open & set to full
blackness burning bagels, bread, tiny
imitation pizzas into dessicated cardboard
landscapes pockmarked & cratered, no hours of
clear water revival can revert post mark lost
stamp torn off, a pile of paper in your foyer
& puzzles tied with a twine string, just, stillness.
vacuumed silence aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa sliced & served
with a small plastic cup revealing your voyages to
Colonial Williamsburg, Bermuda, or Disneyland time-traveling
mementos documenting weather patterns in letters
How many squirrels did you see today?
Certainly more than me. I have 73 channels to
flip through compared to your fuzzy five
so time exploring the yard, the garage,
the basement, memories, weather, took precedent to
TV dinners fishamajigs & a sinking slow heat
seeping through storm doors vacuum packages &
your places for hiding money--plastic children's cups
I think--palmed bills warm from your hands,
I know you saw squirrels today.
........................................................ XOXO Chris
