If Time Should Turn Itself Backward (poem)

This is a poem I wrote — one of many — in the wake of my father's death in February 2000. I will continue to post some of my older and newer work occasionally in this blog.

If Time Should Turn Itself Backward

If time should turn itself backward,
and the march toward death could be deterred,
and I could erase everything ere I heard,
this existence to me would seem less absurd.

And I could see this bottle of wine revert to a grape,
and I could watch a grown man evolve into an ape;
to see an old parrot's feathers bright with color again,
and an invalid could shed her withered skin.

And this antique desk could become two stately trees,
and the seven continents could seal the seas.
And the rivers would end where indeed they started,
to see rise from the graves our dearly departed. ...

Until an old man crawls though a vagina into a hole in space,
and an emptiness could replace this human race.
The dusk of a dead day could become its lovely dawn;
for a moment we rejoice, then once again it's gone.

And I could forget every learned word,
if time should turn itself backward.

And I could see again what the years have blurred,
if time should turn itself backward.

And this cancer in my body would one day be cured,
if time should turn itself backward.