Too often lately, on my nightly walk I make out a form half in shadow down the block. I’m sure that she or he waits on their dog, but closer it’s the work of dark and fog. More clearly

me, lying on the concrete, not even meeting your eyes you, sitting crossed-legged with a half-smile on your lips him, falling off the longboard and laughing for an empty ballroom me, catching the peeling smiles from his skin and

Learning to let go We are rich in last days Call it practiceHard at first to stomachOvernightsVisits from distant friendsVacationsPetsSummer campEarly onWe can carry on, cryTake weeks to recoverLater there are School, weekendsRomancesLast performances of choirs, dance troupes, playsLast days of

I learned the word broken in the middle of the night. Your back was against my chest, naked, your glasses discarded (groped for in the morning,) your ear to the bed. You were all good hearing, you heard it