heaven gazing, the cracks in the pavement no concern 

I sat outside, no actually, I stood waiting gazing at a girl in black 
w/ a beret, 
writing in a book, alone like I was too 
but she was not so important, a brush stroke on a Cezanne, just 
making up the overall— 

I saw a young man (old by my standards) 
playing handball w/ his son on the bend 
of a dead end street bordering this park at this portrait // a 
masterful work // 
I could not turn on my heels 

You may have felt this before? 

as I looked at the smile on his face 
his face became mine, his son became mine 

I felt unsettled + reflective + perhaps 
if I think back carefully 
the cold wind of fear caressed my cheek 
a mortality 
it turned their red to blue— 

but nor can I discount feeling joy 

It was just the strangest thing, a mad vision I was just as easily 
myself again as I was a father, ten seconds of a future that’s all, 
mad tangents, my parents would laugh at 

such a complication for Peter Pan 
I zipped my coat, sighed, back to Never Never Land