...how strange.
it seems like two long nights, a sunrise, and afternoons that crisscross
like the sun, one side of the street
to the other.
i think it rained for a while.
i know there was snow; it lingers in muddy pools in the park.
i saw you cry. maybe more than once.
then you got strong and so
my own tears can fall.
put the yellow books in the yellow bags.
wash the laundry.
call my mother again.
little beads of salt leave a body
and move towards the center of the earth;
their path can map its pull.
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