This year you learn everything
you do has already occurred—
in the sense that time,
if truly another dimension,
is only linear according to
our limited perception.
Also, you seem to be reliving
your father’s life, only a bit taller,
and in Tennessee. In his twenties,
Dad lives with Uncle Mark;
you pay Chris rent.
One cold January, watching
a blizzard, he composes a song;
and you are building a poem in
the year you learn everything
No notes about this poem!