Imagine
for Barbara, Celeste, and Rosemerry

Imagine
living with your back to the sunset.

Poems don’t just come
from thin air.

They are teased
from photos
pried
from stone
lifted
out of yet-open
coffins
peeled
off yucca stalks
sucked
through grass straws
dug
with bare fingers
from deep red embers
caught
like tiny beetles
from light-speed flight
chased
down the burrows
of fear
or

please bring me
two bananas
and some yogurt -
we’ll make
quick banana pudding
and sit down
together
to feast.

Form your own
hula hoop
and spin
a new orbit.