The decrepit and the sacrificial juveniles
sit like stones
behind tarnished shadows
and I wonder how grandma can age alone
not missing the empty echo of orange juice
on good porcelain
never used for breakfast
until the tumor spread past his eye
but her eyes
still veil something
hollow

she says deeshes
just like she did before
when he was fighting
to find her
through chemicals
where syllables are
out of order

despite my best half-holiday smile
she still takes care of that
40 year old teenage aunt
still a victim
of a world that will never give her children a chance
but maybe it’s healthy
healthy
like orange juice
just before
chemo

I could still see
in the shadows behind of a vacant pupil
nothing
had changed