when i arrived,

i dropped by the dog’s grave,

tamed all the thoughts of the ones

i could not save,

flipped the bird eastward

and feasted on homegrown,

tucked in my tie and drove

to the house you now own.

felt clean with my socks off

on old lighthouse pieces

and the sky i imagined

that the long stare increases.

give me the garden

and a space that is hers,

for the nights where the drawback

no longer occurs.

and the table top rested

with the folds on the side,

while the glasses slept nicely

and taught dew to abide.

there’s enough in the evidence

of sunken withal

in the light of elastics

creeping over death’s haul.

tossing the stuffed elephant

to catch it again

and again i’m am fearful

for the memory within.

and again i’m am fearful

for the memory within.