Ephemeral Restoration

“The temporary is the sacred” -June Jordan

1.

I look at your curly grey hair
not dyed or done for the first time
you’re weeping in the acute leukemic bed
recalling your Irish brother-in-law in the war

He had been a sweet man
with an offbeat sense of humor
who once pretended to sauté
his toddler nephew in a skillet
as the baby laughed
uncooked by irony

You tell me
my great-uncle had lost
the last hand
so he had to take out the trash
and when he returned
his poker buddies were dead

2.

Like nearly everything
in your daughter’s
once pristine house
so much disappears

But I get to keep
the photo of you
holding her
five different ways

3.

Near the onion skin itinerary
a book edge foxes
a pink sun lowers
over desert sage
a piece of paper flies away
with its lines
and I will not learn why
someone took my father’s
Benny Southstreet fedora
out of a filing cabinet
in the Village
and never gave it back

maybe you know