Petrichor

Diner-lit night rain like
surfacing from Port Authority on Friday,
or sinking back into it on Sunday,

egg on a toad's back.

The good remote-viewing reassures, does not ensnare

the bad sees me, ah - 

(I had to pause to see if I could sing something)

We three in the diner

where I ate my first and last

pandemic work-lunches,

toad emerging.

They survived, they were worried when my father wasn’t there

he was fine, they were fine, some of us were fine

they don’t remember me now, I am remote-viewing me then which explains

something, I am remote-viewing me five hours ago, I am so afraid of the future