reveals itself / like a doe’s hoof tapping ice / till she can drink.

the chemo has burned out / and hospice watches / with tender eyes

Turn left at the first sign of progress / and follow the old highway / along the Stillwater River.

We did what we could, / hid the bottles, drove what / was left of him deep / into the yawning hollow

I take your portrait down to clean / and notice the scar of another / hanging, painted over.

I was thirteen, and there was a boy’s mouth / where my legs met.

Suspended between lover and caregiver and not doing either / especially well.

I heard for the second time / the news of his heart transplant, / details like a post card from a foreign country

We were all one beautiful blend / of mama’s love. My brother, / the color of ecru, the other one / sepia, and me, ebony.

There is a woman in the booth next to us. / She looks at me as I remove my new hat.