Slide To Power Off

It should hurt less 

By now

25 minus 40

Is 15

Fifteen 

But it doesn’t

In some ways

It’s worse

Brooding 

Boiling

Blood

Under a seemingly 

Eternal wound

She should be here

She should be here

She should be here

It’s unfair and unfounded

It unwinds

When I think I’m mad

About something else

It revels

In the guise

Of my busyness 

She should see the smiles

She should have been the one 

To hold them

To tell me

It was good

That I was brave

That

It was worth

All the nights I spent 

Smoking

Alone

In the snow

For better or worse

She is the towering figure

Hovering over my life

Secretly 

Sovereign

Hopefully 

Satisfied

With where I landed

Is it possible 

There are depths of this well

I haven’t plumbed 

Tears I haven’t cried

They found me today

Tore their way down my cheeks

Wrangled wet

Around me

Like rope

He knew

He is the one who always can

Tell me the things 

Only she could see

My Mother

Was the only one

Who always knew what I meant

Always understood 

My intentions

Brash

Bull headed 

Blind

As I can be

I never had that again 

Till I met him

He always

Always

Always

Always

Sees me

So now

Fifteen years after

The limp 

Heavy legs 

The black

Plastic bag

With the ruthless

Zipper

The terrible stillness

That settled like lead

Over her beautiful shoulders

I seem 

To never forget 

Her smile

Her laughter

Irreverent 

But friendly

Her fearless fists

In the face of darkness

I see her

In their 

Wry 

Triumphant grins

In their

Gentle

Understanding

In the ways

They undo me

In the cavalier 

Capricorn 

My solid ground

Who forces me

To stop 

Brings me bourbon

When I want wine

Puts his hand

Behind my neck

When I didn’t 

Let myself know

I was sad

In my December child

Who chose 

November

I can see her 

Admonishing me

With her eyebrows

Over a widening chasm

To stop looking 

For her

In any place

But them