[y]our house

Across the water

this house

Built in the Spring

The year you left

This house, my companion

my therapy, My competitor.

I have had dinner in every room this

house, the porch being most beloved.

I have the Sun, a guest over for

breakfast, somedays He is late, and we

share white white heat for brunch.

One night, as two moons hung in

the sky, I sat on my gem of a porch

listening, to the water that lies just

across the field.

I heard them first, and soon without

realizing, saw them approach.

I watched them carefully so and I,

Crept inside the house creaking along

the door and boards, and sat quiet and

upright in my chair. admired

of the porch beloved.

The chair I built after this house-

It was meant to be your chair.

With Maggie, my rifle upon my lap, I

sat and watched a friend of Shadow

creep and slide across my floor

They peered around, eyes already

adjusted. Turned a neck and peered through

the barrel of Maggie.

Without recognizing I heard the

scream before the shot.

Blood boiling screams. Shrill, terrible

gargling a curse.

And then, only the water.

The river flowing from the pond.

Before I spread my fingers across their face,

in the Day's longest moment. I

prayed it would be you.

Your god did not hear me.

He heard only the blood river over

wood plains.