the evening drizzle is cold enough to sting
in the aftermath
the cricket songs are continuous
the soft breeze creates gently dancing tree shadows
on my neighbors wood fence
I dream of moving
but there is so much
I would have to pack
I remember maneuvering his wheelchair
through houses we were shopping for
My baby says he misses daddy
My oldest asks if I am used to being without him yet.
No, I say. No, I'm not.
I am, he says.
I awake covered in pee,
I make everyone breakfast but me
grab my coffee and a Luna bar
and don't stop moving from 6:20 a.m. till 9:15
at moments I can't predict
but mostly I can smile and play
while inside my heart curdles
because each moment, good or bad,
moves me away from him
How is it that he is not here?
I don't understand that.
I live it, I just don't understand it.
sometimes I wish I could light myself up
like a cigarette or a candle or a fire work
burn and glow and send smoke into the atmosphere
and be done
I'd leave trailer lights behind the eyes of anyone who saw me
and I wouldn't have