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