He
drifts in from
off stage
transparent to me
invisible to others
dressed in
a floor length robe
looking like St. Augustine
or Plato
to watch me work
during
the final days
moving eggs
the size of graves
heavy as eternal sleep
fragile as
the promises we keep
carefully
from place to place
without
saying a word
wanting to
let me know
my efforts
have not gone
unnoticed
no matter how
things turn out
and
while I appreciate
the attention
I can see
he has no intention
of saying
I have done well
and
can take off early
which is what
I want to hear.
