gintaras

the day the moon swallowed the sun

and the clocks went back

the light

was amber when I woke

there was mist and rainbow

I wonder if I’ve paid enough attention to the dead

are their stories in me

had I listened close 

before they began their journey 

on the back of the moon

with a plan to have the sun

for breakfast

I make toast and tea

think of my immigrant father

and the war trauma he carried in his young heart

when he left

think of  the women

edna

gladys

mary

nellie

and so many more

enduring great lake winters

with Baltic sea air in their lungs

factories, shops and children bearing

lithuanian memories

with nursing home endings

closing their eyes and seeing the amber light

resin that endures and adorns

dreams.