My son makes a gesture my mother used to make. The sun
in their eyes.
Fluttering their fingers. As if to disperse it.
He does it again. The sun, like the drifting ashes of a distant
past. The petals
Of some exploded yellow roses.
The miracle of it.
The double helix of it.
The water running uphill of it.
Last night Luke got wind of the asteroid that was going to pass between the earth and the moon and became convinced it was going to smash right into us. He couldn't be talked out of this notion and veered wildly between glee at the thought of it -- and sheer panic. I'm very glad the planet has survived unscathed.