The day gravity was off.

  

  Get in the fucking car. It is way too cold. It starts to warm up. Turn on you seat heater.

   Five light bulbs illuminate an angel in a red bandana with the world in plastic framed by this white tile. Turn on point and walk out the door. The road is dark and it is getting late. -10 degrees when we hit the border only to have you say "what the fuck are we doing." We are having the goddamned time of our lives and not even noticing it. In the city you forget how bright the stars are exactly. Something dead and gone is so full of hope. With snow falling in a stillness that only this kind of cold can bring I start to worry if we should have came here.

  Lace up. Tuck in, gloves on just in time to live or die. Christ it is so cold out. Yet you, who by all means complains at 30 degrees has not said a word. Out of fear or pride I know not. In guiding you through the perils of a 50 foot long icy hill you seem to have a permanent smile. Which is far too rare in my opinion. Watching you grab your fate and say "fuck off" makes me glad to be alive. Just not to happy when you tell me to fuck off. A fall on site had nothing to do with how far I had already fallen except when you fell, stood up, blinked with snow in your long eyelashes and started to laugh. More of myself was in that smile than anywhere on earth for a second. Indoors you realize how cold you are. The burning of thawing set in as we crossed the same path to speed past blurred lights and ignore what it was. It is a constant red sky in our winter because of the snow reflecting the city lights. 

  

  We slept as the skeletons of Pompeii that night frozen intwined to protect you forever. Like those stars that night I knew I would rather burn brighter than than a thousand suns for just one second than a life time with out a chemical catalyst that triggers a planets destruction. You.

A Balancing Act

With nothing but the wind we are sent spiraling perilously to earth.

I find my balance on a rope strung between impossibility and improbability.

When crossed is not the desired destination in either direction.

How long can you stand there on the knives edge.

Once you were gone, if ever, the safety net disappeared.

All that is left is the cold hard reality of concrete.

That which will steal my last breath from the both of us if I lose what little balance is left.

Just a dream.

Can you will someone to do somethings in life. 

 When I woke up my heart was swelling from your laugh and voice. You were so close yet across the galaxy. I looked to my phone for the time and before my eyes could focus it was you. Your voice came through loud and clear as if to say "wake up." 

This is when I begin to describe my dream.

We were in an all white mica sitting room furnished in Corbusier, Roset, Eames and the like. floor to ceiling windows filled the room with bright green light filtering through the leaves of spring. I could smell the dew on the air in my dream. Now that I think of this, you built this house. every aspect I can recall screams your name. I just saw one of your houses.

I kind of come to in this all to real and familiar sitting room to hear your voice in the distance shouting inaudible words that i knew to be kind. As if a dream within a dream I knew what I saw and have a hard time admitting it. A boy about 2 years old is pattering across the floor at what I can only describe as a gallop. Tiny white polo, navy shorts and your blue eyes. Wait, this is my grandson. Yes, it has to be. Not yet sure who exactly you are in my mind or dream as you turned the hallway I saw it was you exactly as I remember. Something was different but I could not place it this time. He was our grandson. I could feel my stiffness and hear a change in your voice. holding my grandson in one arm with some amount of strength and size about me I asked him "you like grandma more?" In a joking fashion. Yet as soon as his tiny feet touched the ground he ran for you. 

You were in the shower. I feel like you were singing, which by all accounts you never do, despite the face that you have an amazing voice. as he reached for the handle I was in close pursuit. The door swung open and you were not startled like it had happened a million times.   We stood looking at you until the little boy turned and ran out. The bathroom had a large mirror that was fogged, on an almost center island type vanity that creates the privacy and the separation. Once you noticed me staring at you our eyes locked and I realized what was different. You dropped your robe and paused for a moment before parting the shower curtain and continuing humming. It was like I had never seen you in my life and you were this amazing flower or a humming bird that is so fast you have to concentrate to see it. I loved you in that second more than ever and realized the difference was that we were old. You were old. I still saw you as I would see you today. Even a year ago for that matter and am starting to think I will always see you that way. Even after my sight has gone I believe you will still be the most beautiful thing in memory I have seen.