The Ascension

...our daughter learns to tell the days apart by how high she can toss the moon up...

The night Mom shut her apartment door
and lay down in eternity
the person I would become leaked
puddle of thoughts knotted on the floor

In it the ceiling shook and stretched
yawning the chintz off electric light
the ring in the bathtub found my wet finger
with this ring I take you down a peg she said
all of the guests were wearing raincoats
the hungry one took me aside told me
at the crossroads out back our daughter

learns to tell the days apart
by how high she can toss the moon up
how many jacks she snatches with her empty hands
there’s no one to teach her the difference
her laughter sounds like you knocking on a door
that opens to Mom’s half-hidden smile