Orbits

Floating down the hall
looking side to side
strange shoes stride
I see the tip of a nose,
hear a voice bounce off
walls, see a reflection
of someone I know--
older, somehow,
wearing a shirt that goes
better with Dad's wavy grays.

My breaths--mine?--
rise and fall as
mind and body orbit,
eccentrically.
How can it be?
Who knows how it
comes and goes?

Some days, I'm ninety percent
there--others, a thin ten,
and we're miles apart, if
you could even measure it.