Bowling in Heaven

Like newlyweds, my parents slip out of their clothes. He puts aside the sweater I chose for him, she undoes her pearls. They rise up from their old ailments, their fears of falling, broken hips and other bad news. Now they dance barefoot in their living room, go bowling on a whim. They garden all day without pain, calling out like songbirds, come see the hollyhocks, they have grown so tall! Nights, they lie down like dolls and their sleepless eyes glide closed. They seem so eager for morning, I pray they will find each other again and again.