Commemoration
Like footprints paved in
the snow in the driveway coat-
ed by fresh blankets
of white descending snow flakes
in the morning, I know they
are still there. Like the
trees bright with vibrant leaves fall-
en by winter and
flowers kissed by butterflies
replaced with dull grass, I know
they still bloomed there. Like
unexpected, unprotect-
ed surprises grow;
I will never forget the
sensation of cold gel on
my still flat tummy
or the clasp around my pan-
creas, six more weeks
of winter, it rains bloody
red. Saturday. Life. Gone but
I know. I remember.
This was supposed to be a
tanka but I have
never been good at obey-
ing the rules. I have not been
good with losing you.
Intentional, counting syll-
ables, words stuck in
Saturday, I touch my bel-
ly, remembering you exist-
ed here
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