Eyes open, familiar shadows of morning,

similar sounds, a door shutting

compels a listen of that same impact,

wood meeting wood, meaning home.

In the early days of winter years ago,

the closing door was a haunting omen,

that same momentum is carried out

as symbols of a decade, time gone …

Pulling out of the melodrama,

a coffee waited on the chilly counter.

He would taste the first sip as

if sitting in a cabana in Jamaica …

All of our lives we experience 

reminders. In the afternoon now,

listening to kids play outside,

swearing he is hearing his own

remembering a time he no longer …

Surreal is the moment we measure.