ATHANATOS

As my father grew old God
Became restless. He'd rise from bed,
Clap on any sort of hat 

(God and my father were of a time
When hats were worn outdoors)
And walk the streets until dawn,
Finding worlds He'd forgotten
Glittering feebly in the dust.
Some He'd gently start spinning
With a slight flick – just so.
Just so do I remember my grandfather
Making a half-dollar coin dance
With three Indian-head pennies.