Night’s falling, everyone into the van
except the old folks, Wave bye to Gran.
Dark or light, she’s heading out to walk
her normal round though right off it’s out
of whack, sidewalks lead to treehouses
& backyards & wooden gates with locks
she can’t climb into or out of or over
so she slithers backward down a flight
to her lifelong street to head straight
home except now the dark covers
everything, it’s happened again, she’s lost
her way in a world that doesn’t see her face
because she’s suddenly old, because
she’s not remembered, because the past
yields to a present empty that stays
if you don’t count death, death waits.
A stump offers a reasonable place to sit
to wish this place were a meadow
where a horse snuffles, a white owl
hunts, the Milky Way flings its hot
spray into infinitely distant
dark space, guarantees what she can’t
know despite astronomers’ rant
& rocket ships & satellite jaunts
yet here three lizards scamper
round her feet, here where more & more
she reckons, alone & unaccounted for,
no help, no well wishers.
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