passing through circles
of weddings and aging and death
i can’t tell where this one ends and
this one begins.
i see my son, my baby
reaching out to his lovely one
and grasping a hand that is not mine
and i decide that i love her too.
i see my mother
reaching out to memory
and grasping things from long ago
and i decide that she’s wiser than me.
i see my brother
reaching out to god
and grasping for something beyond this world
and i decide to someday ask the way
these circles cross paths
in ways i cannot comprehend.
i reach out for something less dizzying
and grasp for something more linear
then decide to walk the intersections
as best I can.