Passenger seat, looking through–
dark window, tinted sky,
and black treeline.
Pairs of yellow orbs float by.

We’re almost to New Orleans now.
Soon, the world
and its atmosphere
will have a dance around you and
your money.
Oh happy, frugal dance –

But tonight it is dark,
cold
(bitter cold)
and it rains with the tears of risen demons;
it rains with the things that came back
from a place beyond the grave.

He never should have come back.
I’m sorry you have to deal with this, Mom.