how is this the same body that bent
at the back, en route to the moon
halted hip—lest arrival's too soon
a thought, post-relief, of Thursday
afternoon, entering the room
large and certain, small and unkind
a kiss for open eyes, open your eyes,
we're coming in, you been gone
too long, it's time to come home
grass is brown, water's green
last time you were seen smiling
was the end of a dream, found
morning frayed, suit a dull gray,
open your eyes and we'll walk away,
open your eyes and we'll walk away