Chaotic Journeys

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