they met a week ago
seemed impressed by nothing so far

he’d seen it all before plus there is always
a neighbour didn’t you know in Canada,
Great Britain, America

supermarkets we have plenty , it’s money we need
he’s found the high cliffs of Peaceheaven a struggle
and isn’t it just water

it comes and goes like life, his granddaughters
encouraged by the reflux put wry hop scotches
on the cement

I’d lost him once more, in my house of thoughts
on the edge of the light, with my dead one
just across

what is he doing, erupted his son idling by his car
with a pair of keys and two pink bicycles
I thought he was waving good bye
but said nothing