Day 2.

On the slanted light a word, a remark

will find its feet, stop meandering lift

your spirit just enough to stop a march

into an abyss, as if getting the gist.

More rare than this the randomness settles.

spending some time asleep, letting you watch

an unstubbled youth easily wrestle.

solve equations of loves that once were botched.

These salvations are more usually

carried incomplete, imprecise to here

where your dreams spill the blood of memories

and you can hear your mother say, don’t fear.

Her words, those talismans against nightmares

are dancing with dust motes, wearing tears.