Caliyah and the other young squealers
play prey-predator/shark-and-victim
in her backyard pool
her grandfather my brother and
I watch from chairs in the shade
this scene from her sixth birthday party
so hard to believe we’re the old ones now
observing what we used to do
our blurred pasts lost to time
though I don’t think time means
to rub it in our faces
the aged are captive to reflection
I kiss and hug Caliyah goodbye
she’s glazed over with excitement
she’ll not remember a thing of my visit
I drive home hollow-boned not eager
to get back into the cage of my age
but the door is open
and
well
I have nowhere else to go
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