downhill time, the evening of your birth,
the silver spoon still wet
from saliva, the salt on your tongue,
baptism only
remembered after tears,
since then you’ve been on a journey
through oceans, passing Aphrodite,
ragamuffins and raspberry pies,
collided with one too many
dads dressed in shotgun jeans, little receptacles
in pockets for the shells
they never fired, and while you ventured
to tea leaf parlors and tattoo joints,
that smile stayed and even grew as
motions and visions could be
seen outside your peripheral view,
and life ended for others, but not
for you.
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Brilliant!!
Love Tinka