Sometimes I’m not sure where I am: here or
there. Here with you: Planet Earth, USA,
LR, AR. Or there: cosmic ether,
with everyone else, from Methuselah
to the not-yet born.
Am I just sitting
in my cush chair, watching the NFL,
or floating in Neverland, forgetting
who I am or how my soul propelled
into this hazy state? I turn and see
you at the Christmas tree, your hands starting
to hang legions of lights. I rise, gently
take them from you, lift and spread their startling
glow along these highest branches. I look
at you smiling, watching me. I smile, too.
Roger Armbrust
December 16, 2016
