Lonely rectangles
Squeeze our souls
Stacked one on top of another
Slid into moveable vessels
Stationary now

Filled with us
The new interstate cargo
Rooted to this spot
No place to go

Or left to sit at the altar
Replace pews of worship
For logs of sorrow
Alone
Alone

For Platt, my brother.

Groundhog Day, a day without reason.

We were unprepared for the pain of this last Leave-taking.

I can’t be quiet when all around me are making noise.

If I should die before I wake, Show me the paths I love to take.

Unlike so many Thanksgivings before, a meal my family won’t share, emotion is felt so much more.

Outside a turkey pecks at my lawn. Inside I peck at my keyboard

Autumn’s back, courting dreams.

No Fireworks, no Fair, no Illumination. No house too full with each generation.