Reading the Signs

             	1.
I have a picture
in my head.
My daughter is standing on the stage
at Larrabee State Park
singing to the grass
and wooly sunflowers.
Her age still counted in months.
 
Her only diagnosis
being a child.
She was two
singing
to an audience of air.
Seagulls were riding
the vibration and rising up
on a small echo off the back
of the amphitheater wall.
 
The wheels on the bus
go round and round
round and round
round and round.
The wheels on the bus
go round and round
all through the town.
 
             	2.
This year she celebrated
her twenty-fourth birthday.
Now she rides the city buses
of our small town
watching out the window
at other people's lives.
Listening to songs
other people sing.
She stays seated
with her head resting
on the glass.
The street signs
appear and disappear
one diagnosis at a time.
There are familiar messages.
 
Slow.
One Way
Road Closed
Not a Through Street
Do Not Enter
Stop.
Dead End.