gravel road

It surprises me every time,
how unprepared I am
for the news I read about you.
I feel the news in
your absence,
the bits of it falling into my path,
pebbles to be kicked by my angry shoes
and it’s a little bit silly
how fragile
and tender this heart still is.

all love can be simplified, solidified.
I have
a gravel road stretched out before me,
the calcified remnants of
what we were
get stuck in my shoes.

12

the end of December is,
again.

we grow another few minutes,
add the contents of the year
to the bag.
the seeds we’ve planted
are buried beneath a slow tidal of
powdered snow.

when December is,
it is frightful cold,
sadly grey and white with age.