2 March 2003 | Vol. 3, No. 1

Mr. Rogers

From green and brown carpets

constellating the globe, we focused vacuous eyes

and rounded mouths. Once more

the door smiled him in, and again we were

unexpected. Wooden paneling, a sail

puffed in a picture, and hangers evenly spaced

were fingers crossed behind our mutual back.

No matter where we lived we were Neighbor.

It was easy to take a breath and change.

The cardigan climbed onto his sloped shoulders

like a five-year-old as the couch sat