When I Thought I Threw Away Some Pictures of My Mother

I was blind to the cars
as I crossed several streets,
and why is it that when I’m
crying in public, suddenly I see
everyone I know? How are you?
Good. Thanks! when I am nearly
bent in half by the shock of grief
again, after all this time, when
I have made a mistake that,
as it turns out, was correctable,
was corrected, so that the world
and the day looked different then,
this autumn sun no longer so
merciless, and maybe
my last round of monarchs
will see Mexico after all.


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