There are many places I am not,
never have been,
never will be.
One of them is almost
where I am right now.
I am standing in my
house in Mentor, Ohio
Table. Hats. Balloons.
I gather myself to
the smell of sulfur,
the burnt match,
the candles,
the birthday cake,
the smile.
Sixteen miles away
a desk drawer demands
to be opened and closed,
a keyboard itches to make words,
a wastebasket requires crumpled paper,
a telephone insists on being held to my ear.
Already the match is tossed,
the sulfur smell fades,
candles melt,
cake cut,
daughter grown.
Is it
now and then?
Am I
here and there?
Now here?
Nowhere?
The confluence,
the flux,
the flow.
Wishful
exhalations.
2015