tonight was the last time
i'd walk into my yard
without shoes on
and not lose my toes
to the frost that breathes on the back
of our necks
even though the shine from the sun
still freckles our faces

i stood there and held steady
as bailey ran figure eights around me
weaving in and out of the rhododendrons
knowing just how long his leash would reach
before his collar snagged on his windpipe

i looked over the fence,
saw that your light was on,
but i knew you were gone
being pumped full of formaldehyde
and by now they had cut you open
and taken out my favorite part of you

i thought of the time when i was just four
and you rolled over on that ride on mower
wearing that old hat you'd gotten
back when they called you the anaconda
your skin was like chocolate and i thought to myself,
now that man looks delicious

my daddy handed me to you over the fence
and i sat on your lap, we mowed your two acres together
you singing stevie wonder, me singing the beatles
back and forth we went until every last blade was clipped

i rolled down the sledding hill and you smoked your cigar
and laughed when i got up and couldn't figure out
if i was looking up at the sky or down at the earth

and when your big hands
held my tiny shoulders
the world stopped spinning
i looked down and there was
the tiny gold locket that i still have today

my momma called me for dinner
and you picked me up,
put me on my side of the fence
and winked at me like you always did
but that day was different, that day you said,
erin ann, you're the daughter i never had

i know that the blood
that runs from my heart to my brain
to my finger tips as they write this
is not the blood that no longer
races through your veins,
but lord knows,
that won't make
watching them throw the dirt
on top of you
any easier