Time Travelers

I’m ready to time travel
she said
as we walked circles
in running socks
around a cul-de-sac,
avoiding minivans
and inquiries

I’m ready to smoke
Parisian cigarettes
to walk arm-in-arm
with you through
art-deco doors
to take the town
by storm

I’m ready for
pilgrimage
prohibition
knock-off jewels
our flapper dresses
dripping and dancing
Bojangles Robinson

This morning
I woke
and wondered
if maybe
we are already
time travelers
glimpsing
real lives
we share
in other
dimensions

Clearly you and I
share many lifetimes
and who’s to say
they happen one
after
another
somehow
that sounds awfully
obedient

No,
our eras must
collide and shimmy
collapse and rise
squeeze and bend
from the Two-Step
to the Charleston
from the witch trials
to the train tracks
from morning glory
trellises
where we climb
a couple of
eight-year-old
barefeoot girls
to the old-lady
beaches in Cabo
where we sip
and sit
and enjoy the view

while the sun goes down
while the sun goes down