Linoleum was cool under my small feet, kitchen walls drenched in yellow light–half-light, suppertime light light folding in on itself, dusk-foragingsundown, bird tracks tracing muskypines. You stood like a kildeer before me, sandy-brown feathery hairframing your 8 year old face, sharp shoulder bonesand feather-slips of […]

(after a line from CS Lewis) the grey dark was heavy as stone but for a patchof light in the shape of a handon your pale shouldersand a tidal wave (of grief) from nowhere–we could not save you,we never got to carry you down beforethe […]