I Died

Walking around the house touching everything again.

While my parents slept.
And I went and touched their poor old heads.
And left them sleeping.

People were pushing in from every side inside the house.

When my grandfather snored his mouth made a perfect ‘O.’
He could do it anywhere, seemingly at will.

I walked out onto the grass like daggers.
The sun hung over the hills where the cloud had lifted.

Granny made them semolina pudding.
Which came as a surprise, because nobody had noticed
them growing so old.
The way they had lost their teeth.

I remember my parents as if I was older than they were.
I remember them being in love.

Soon they will wake up and see a million faces.
But not mine.

And they’ll understand.
And reach back into the dream.
And hold each other gently.

And for a few minutes everything will seem to be back
the way it was.

I will carry them the way they used to carry me.

Their eyes will sneak a peek before they fall.
Before I lift them into bed.
And they’ll smile.

Before lying down together side by side.
Before being tucked up safe and warm.
Till morning.