See how the moon follows us?
That’s Grandpa’s face in the sky.
It smiles so, he’s still the same.
Sleep. The way home’s always
shorter than the way you came.

Shh…the car’s a steel measure
that swallows the road like a tape;
and we’ll all live twice as long
as it takes the snail to go
around the world on its crumpled skate.

1979

 = Sarah Kobrinsky