My COMMANDER  

Published by The Delmarva Review, November, 2017

Someone yells, step outside yourself, 
and if we could we’d be moons 

orbiting a center like playing
pretend with my grandchild. 

She squints as if wings kiss her cheek
then her voice expands the world. 

She tells me she’s the mother
and brings me her doll. 

I take instructions. Taking my hand, 
she says, Come with me in the street

with the people. Bring the umbrella. 
I struggle to open our cover. Now 

we’re soaked by the rain and she wants
to change her wet clothes—caught 

in drama she’s a supernova, exploding, 
outshining all other stars in the galaxy 

searching her dresser draws for a dry dress—
she suggests, let’s pretend you’ve hurt yourself.  

I fall to the floor crying out, help me
I need a doctor. Band-Aids flood the scene. 

She draws me in like a gravitational field
where there’s nothing but the two of us. 

Her parents enter the doctor’s office,
and we’re flung back. 

Is this deep stirring
a glimpse into our universe? 

Like the sun burns hydrogen
into helium glowing heat and light.

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