by SLC Andrew Evans

You met me for the first time
a thousand times
in a room full of birds

They wheeled you to the hall’s end 
where you held court
as robins flitted aimlessly
behind a pane of glass

You asked my name
or asked which grandchild's son I was
I answered every time
knowing you would ask again

Were you happy there,
in that airy room,
where family came and went
with new faces every time?

Was it better when we flitted
in
and out
like ancient
half-remembered cares?

I hope you were happy
there with the birds
meeting me anew the thousandth time

and that all the hellos
stayed with you after our last goodbye