I thought about him today again
as I was
driving,
the narrow, curving road end-
lessly winding
Four years ago this
Christmas
he died
too young for it to be
ok
if death's ever
ok,
Ok,
he doesn't come into my
mind much
anymore, I
admit
but when he does,
it's drilling
it's piercing.
it's a hammer to a nail
incessantly
pounding,
god
when the road is long
when my engine's overheating
when I have spent a morning under
a raging, August sun
painting,
He will always cross my mind because
the sun held him so tightly and then
it wouldn't let him go.