trying hard

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

strange things
break me
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
to try
so
damned
hard.