Liftoff

In years to come
I may stare out a hazy window, indifferent to time as the dingy white walls and routines,
or crack a final grin at the sunlight dancing on bayonets.
But it is of little consequence because one cannot tell,
and yesterday news arrived, once and for all.
At loss for words,
I paused, glimpsing my relationship to the future
from the eye of a hurricane --
the windows were not properly boarded and I had not wanted to evacuate --
but could not distinguish the figures, or make out what survived,
and thoughts flew and collided like debris.
While others hesitate before the daggers of fate, then disperse wildly,
I was amazed, and didn't think that I had it in me to greet them
as a monument of possibility.
One will eventually learn that there is never any choice,
yet, careful responses matter --
there is nothing else to give.
So I dialed the number, twice, and she returned the call:
the past, which precisely lives, perished for me then and there
when I heard her voice amidst every uncertainty,
and noticed I had grown older.
Even so,
we are none the wiser,
and like the one to come, too young to see.