Brian Turner – Instant Replay

Brian Turner

Instant Replay

The ruling on the field has been challenged
     and now the crew in New York studies
the moment in slo-mo, nearly frame by frame,
     the bang-bang play a difference 
of milliseconds, camera angles, a decision
     on when the ball enters the glove.

History will be surprised by its own error
     should the call be reversed, the runner
staying on the bag or dusting himself off
     as he walks on back into the dugout.
It’s all about timing. The perception of bodies
     in motion. Everything unfolding from this.

And as I watch the game and wait for the call
     from New York, I think of the two of us
curled up lazy in a Saturday afternoon bed, 
     your head on my chest, our conversations
about the multiverse, the many variations of us
     out there, the things we do, the things we see.      

But now that you’re gone, it’s become so clear
     that the difference between two versions
of the same moment is you, though I keep trying,
     frame by frame, to slow this gathering of years,
to reverse them into a stillness that might return us
     to one another, the clouds forming above, then

reforming, the departed returning to this life
     on their deathbeds with their loved ones
there to greet them, as I am for you, the word after
     transposed into the word now, the word love
made sweeter in its return, the word death
     transformed, finally, finally, into a gift.

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