Just some nights’ sleep ago,
You went to kindergarten
For your first day of school.
And moments later,
Your first date ended,
Your indulgent mother smiling,
Full of questions,
Knowing well their answers.

Just after breakfast today
Your third child was born.
Now, as you sip your Gimlet before dinner,
She packs for your alma mater.
She will graduate long before bedtime

The universe, so small after the burst,
Has grown too vast too fast
For the light of your infancy,
Your vibrant childhood and adolescence,
To reach you ever again.

And space spontaneously appears
Between the vaunted feats,
Of your valorous career.
Time so viciously
Separates your finest hours.

Your galaxies rush away from each other,
All of them showing streaky retreating tails
Of red to all of the rest.

You, on the couch, stare into the fireplace,
Empty conical glass drooping from a wizening hand.

Your mind searches space for the rim

Where the dimmest lights flicker out.