morning’s roll call alights the blind edges
I glance at my hands
they’ve stretched overhead flexed through the fingers
waved hello to the world that’s here twelve by fourteen
I’d called them so in that apps list of questions to be answered
giving form to the ephemeris bit-life of dating
so long ago
was my answer an unconscious return to my mother’s admiration
this one physical feature she could find to praise
or is it a truth I called
at this moment of entry I knew it to be so
now spotted decades of marks define their dedicated use
nails transformed by the abuses of my teeth and a car door twice
scared by the tools of the trade hammers and heat don’t hold back
is it still so I decide
where life shows up when we take the glance and find ourself not startled but
melancholically self-satisfyingly smiling
when that day comes and the remorses and regrets and even anxious clingings to what has been
fall away
finally
I dare you take up your pen and paper
tell the story of your best feature
file it away with the misty-eyed smile
and lean into the way in which morning’s roll call awakens again
again and again and again
the ring of truth
you are here
you are here
you are here.