I Almost Remember

I almost remember smiling some years past even combing the ceiling with the teeth of a laugh (longer ago than the smile). Open night news-eyed I watch channels of hunger written on children's faces bursting bellies balloon in the air of my day room. There was a smile, I recall now jelled in a never yester glow. Even a laugh that tickled the tits of heaven (older than the smile). In graphs, afraid, I see the black brown hands and white thin yellowed fingers Slip slipping from the ledge of life. Forgotten by all but hatred. Ignored by all but disdain. On late evenings when quiet inhabits my garden when grass sleeps and streets are only paths for silent mist I seem to remember Smiling.