memory
has all the time in the world.

     just when it’s getting good
the book of Genesis
begins.

I stay for my father’s voice.

three babies are carried from church
for crying, or one baby
for crying
thrice.

     slanted paths
of ash
pass in front
of a screen door
like tiny crows
absolved
of warning.

in house, an old man
places himself as a witness
to the controlled burning
of a wooden
porch swing     and misremembers
his best friend
as his best friend god.