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.