“Tribute” —

The things we did and said,
no longer a part of us, still exist,
like looking down on a map of the world,
or a globe, and seeing your own particular city,
and trying to imagine it from above, like that.
The intruder in the spaceship sees your city like that.
We see it as streets crisscrossing, as girls, as beers,
as dogs in the park, and neither view is exactly right.
The closeness to things obscuring the real from us,
the sudden dog, or balloon, or building…