Looking out the RV window watching bear
In the quiet of the northern summer night
where there is too much light to sleep and
we imagine there’s no place like home
It’s been a year since your fall down
a muddy bank at low tide the channel
was rank; rotting seaweed and fish
like the toilet in the corner of the garage
conversations in my head leave me
wondering about heaven and hell
“we need butter” he said, “there’s some
in the freezer” the response. I glance
out the window, feel a twinge caused by
an earring I took it off her writing desk.
she’d often slip them off and rub gently.
In my dreams, I saved her maroon lobes
