I pray for my father’s eyes, the jade pearls they were
and move the gears forward.
These legs, going on will rely more n’ more
on crank grease
and habit.
I pray for my mother’s heart and watch the water. Kindness rises:
white caps before a storm.
This summer all humanity’s remains push south on heavy barges
pushed by racing tugs.
The Ferry Man is busy carting tired bones.