M .  N .   O ' B r i  e n

Panta Rhei
People shuffle themselves down the sidewalk.
I would film this, but you wouldn't feel it
the same way. You have no sense of smell.
How old are your children? They still swing
on those rubber seats held up by chains. I can
take them out, but the weather might change.

Obscure tears revisit your eyes when you're not
looking, and you remember the river with watery
memory, always flowing into streams of change.