You run away like the usual shadow of my southbound train. / Again: bird tracks in ice & I mistook them / for your tiny feet / —but I would know you, wouldn’t I, my / casualty / among all the world’s sighs.
More clearly? I do my best. / “Painfully”—though she might / have meant prayerfully, night / full of drams or drawn, dark rain & the rest—
Dear I don’t know why it doesn’t work, / I’m sure (and have been) still / lights in / attics of torn- / down houses burn.
Dear was burned, / Here we are losing our balance differently now. / Our once field now fireweed’s fuchsia spikes. / Here is our shoulder that was a wing in the before. / Can you mourn what grows?
Ghost courses. / Sixth floor waiting room, view / from above: / rabid traffic surges round the cloverleaf—seemed / a mild intersection enough / when I drove it.
Be careful going home tonight: protect / your family in a culture that’s gone stark raving mad, craving for firepower, sawn- / off shotgun level at an intruder’s chest, handgun unless you feel it’s your last chance, / use an explosive amount of force & threats, if so you are asking for a home invasion robbery.