after Catie Rosemurgy

Seeing, excitement, no-wake lakes.
The category of photographs that survived a move, all of which
have curled in the hot, short summers.

Sugar maples and their forgotten limbs that stray
into the misty morning road. The father holding back
his tears with oil-stained knuckles.

Spice cabinets. Spiders. The intense
empathy found only in the kind.
Every smile remembered.