I have been tracking down words to say, but

my state has suffered a drought.


Two afternoons ago, I was tightening my gut.

Two nights ago, I was having the time of my life.

That night it rained. 


You found your father’s pieces scattered 
amongst the classics: Tom Petty, Linda Ronstadt, 

Mozart’s Requiem, his name still scribbled in pencil.

His ashes are still descending around us.



Not long ago, I would have settled for anything.

Now I’m wondering what’s worse - 
having nothing to lose
or losing everything.
 I’m exaggerating,
but your head on my pillow, 
while fever dreaming,
has me struck by a certain kind of fear.



I’m watching the light and water dry up outside,

anxiety and stress ever abundant, I roll up my sleeves.



Another days work behind me and yet another ahead.

I was once counting pennies to feed myself, now

my body is always satisfied with you around.



I had been tracking down words to say, but

there’s something to be said about finding comfort in the rain.