She remembers how his hands found her
how they wore the signs of outside
he has not worked in a while
she wonders where the infant is
they keep talking to, wonders about his name
Sam Henson, she repeats like prayer, like
Lullaby, but that was not his name
that was her first love, or the name of a character
in a western show she used to watch
Oh, they played with the plastic guns together
She tells the guests about Sam against the will
of her fleeting mind, but they are keepers
no guests are in sight
paid to attend to the sound of her slippers
as they shuffle over the concrete floor, calling.
