come back to see me

1

sleet on the flight

this morning

on the way to

another funeral

And the captain’s voice

says

turbulence for the next sixty miles

flight attendants please return

to your jump seats.

but he could be lying.

not about the sleet

pinging like aluminum

across cuyahoga valleys

below

but about time remaining

or his stroke developing

on the microscopic level

or the knots

or radar.

or an almost-broken fuel gauge

because

when ye olde brain crashes

no one can lie

about tombstones.  

2

the blue my dad tuned

was balloon blue.

slate blue.

jelloblueberry blue.

comet blue.

and I know because

i was holding his hand

on the fourth day

of hospice.

3

“so anyways,” my grandmother’s

says the last time

we talk,

as she pulls her right thigh

up,

hunched in her wheelchair

showing me

a universe

of rainbow skittle pills

hiding underneath

a leaf-colored

blanket.

and the faded eyes

she uses

to look at me

makes sure I get it.

i understand. I should

let go.

low blood pressure.

liver spots.

arthritis.

collapsed lung.

heart arrhythmia.

diabetes.

she’s ninety-nine for god’s sake

and she wants to lie down.

next to my grandfather

out in boston mills

on the east side

of cleveland. inside

a

frozen

hill.