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The bridge

Tears in the toilet (a weird crying)
Head against the cabinet
That squishy feeling
Tears popping
The little splash
Flashback
How’s a stick man to warm his insides?
Near Yakima

Crossing over

Love, or Why do we cup to keep what never runs out?
If it should flow through us like water
(it does),
wetting every cell as it goes,
why not ride this living means to be boundless,
and say goodbye to our hard little pool?
Vigil

Retrieval

How in heaven the old
How in heaven the old appears first
for the sake of recognition –
your gaunt frame and thinning hair,
the soft blue veins on the back of your hand.
We’ll need to be sure.
We’ll have to hear the little cough in your throat first,
before we’ll know we’re there.