1.
The tree in the front yard is dead and still
has the audacity to blush
greenly. No one’s told the limbs
their horoscope yet, and
I won’t be the messenger.
I just sweep the leaves from the side
walk and no one’s the wiser.
2.
My grandfather still knows my name. I’ll try
to forgive him when he doesn’t.
I know that from now on, every
shared memory is a moving sale trembling
under an erratic price gun. Know
that everything must go.
3.
In good company (or this company),
I know to tuck my tongue
behind my teeth. There’s a difference
between my favorite tie
and the one that sells the car.
I can sell a bad car well. But does it matter
now what makes it off the lot ?
4.
Every phone call wipes more
of his slate clean. I don’t mind
retelling stories if he keeps asking
questions.
5.
every phone call wipes more
of our slate clean I don’t mind
retelling stories if he keeps asking
questions
6.
I’m learning to love the bridge
that can’t be built.
To love the tree that clutches
onto its warmth.
Even now, I can pile together
the leaves I’m given
and jump.