Joshua Keiter

Sunday afternoon nap 
wake up but not really 
thinking how much time 
has passed since 

you were younger 
so young at one point 
you didn’t refer to yourself 
in the second person 

how can it be twenty 
years or more you were 
twenty years old or 
younger than yesterday 

to taste what is gone 
all you have to do is dream 
and it’s there for real
wake up a little so you see 

I’m dreaming my life away

Trees sinking 
into the ground 

not because 
of all the rain 

they’re just tired
and broken inside

In retrospect 
it was naive to think 
we could get through this 
unscathed

when at the start 
we were teaching 
some of our neighbors 
how to wash their hands

No idea where we are 
I turn toward the window 
there a bank of cloud 

tells me we are returning 
the landscape below 
insignificant unseen 

bathed in daylight 
filtered through us 
diving beneath we see 

little illumination 
squares of green brown 
roads lead to houses 

some trees stretch boundaries 
others must be torn down 
for this desolate arcadia

to be within reach 
all distinguishing features 
the same eliminated 

monotonous mountains 
leveled by creatures in air 
diving again as always to earth

Mistakes were made
thinking the last twenty years 
could be anything but wasted 

the bodies will never not fall 
from a burning building 
from an airplane 

the parallels do not stop there 
refugees always arriving 
only welcome when it suits us 

the political climate 
anathema to anything but 
the misread sound bite 

the misinformation campaign 
the mission accomplished flag 
still standing although 

tattered and torn unquestioned
the answers unanswerable and
blowin’ in the wind

The definition 
of history is
repeating the same 
mistakes that brought us
so many outcomes 
we could not foresee 
only by looking
one way and backwards 
missing what is there 
lost in front of us

Water comes down 
bonfire alight 

embers arise
mission we share 

see how a fire 
reflects water 

see faces aglow 
part of the stream