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Limits Exist Only In Your Mind (For Helena)


A wet sheet of sky

lays low in the truck bed

like a slab of drywall. All spring 

I look down from the second floor window

through the window of water

until it is covered with helicopters 

from the silver maple tree.


On a Saturday in June

Achilles hauls the rain up Route 3 

to the NorthStar Golf Club where 

he loses to Paul 

who cheated on hole nine

as always.


On the Fourth of July

he finds his mother on the floor 

wrapped in television light.

He plasters the room of her death

in cloud. Sealed, it lifts,

lighter than air, an unwept tear 

vaporizing in the summer sun

before the cookout and the fireworks.

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