Upstream

Read in the paper
That there’s a new
Hypothesis on time

That it
Flows like a river
With the past
Depositing like
fertile silt
On its bends
As it flows ahead

If this is true,
Then
Somewhere upstream,
You are still
Tending the soil in
Our kitchen garden,
With me
Watching you
From over my book
As I pretend to read

We,then, sit on
The porch for a
Meal with a generous
Side portion
Of stories

It doesnt matter
That you don’t
Exist in this
Flesh and blood realm
Anymore

If this physicist’s ideas
Hold water, then

We are still sitting
On the front porch.

Enjoying
The meal
With the same
Shameless laughter

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