So much more to tell.
The omissions begin to wilt
like flowers after the guests have left.

The tic you think is a wink,
the quivering eyelid, occurs
when he gets to the fire-escape.

Everyone lives, you know.
It seems to happen everywhere
and every year his daughter grows young.

The part when she smells the smoke,
the moment the alarm goes off,
doesn’t really matter any more.

What he tends to water grows,
little shoots, spindly at first,
then twisting till finally coming out.