your home is a twilight elegy
i am a bluebird in your backyard
weeping at the vastness
but mostly at the rocks-
every last one-

i feel your legend in my stomach,
it tides out as a windy cry song
into our children

before you come back here
twice at least holler
your charge will have vanished as it is born,
because the weight of your rifle is love

and what could blame you
for my death

there are no mistakes here, dear
nor are there endings,
only,
forever,
becoming----

so i sing

and you shoot