The Map Room at M.I.T.
has floor to ceiling windows
and the light sinks in.
Kneeling before Ohio, you pull
a drawer slowly to your chest.
Your hands are wrinkled

You pull a map from sheets
and encourage the folded parts
to relax._     _ Your arm
shadows miles of Toledo.

At Heather Downs Boulevard and Byrne Rd.
you follow a thin line east
to the Maumee River. Fingers trace your way
past large brown houses, dandelions,
and barking dogs. You lean close.

Behind locked lids
my eyes lean backwards
east-southeast to Virginia.
There were dandelions and barking dogs—
and squares of light used to
wash across walls
at night.