From Speak and the Sleepers
                                                to my father (1955-2017)
                                                                                   a question
                                                                                              that sounds like yes      

                                                                                                                                   The same breath
                                                                                                                 of yours or ancient

                                                                                        same lessons      relearned
                                                                                                                             As yesterday happened today
                                                          this     Tomorrow
                                                                                  however poised            sliding
                                                                                                                                    rain behind my ears
                                                         is not about my body like yours
cannot help but
                                                                  Watch finches and iridescent beetles and
                                                                                                                              Thumped with sleet
                                                                              (that hard music)
                                             come awake
                                                                  all at once

                                                                              the wilderness dim and static
                                                   If you lie down in it

                                                                              thronged with breath
                                                                  That’s all
                                                                                                                        coming to        beset
                                                                                                                          Having been         fallen on
                                                                                    and glad

                                                                                                                        for today                                             
                                                                                             There is no cure

                                                                                                            untitled graph of sky
                                                                     I love         you do not lift me

                                                                                                                                    no need
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