i
I picked up a dead rat
by its tail, buried
it in my backyard,
continued riding
my bike into adulthood.
ii
Life and death are connected
and they aren't—
a robin's mournful song
embraces all seasons
in one note.
iii
Laura was six
when we went to that waterfall
in deep Umbrian woods;
a pond
of freezing water
below.
We challenged each
other to jump,
but never did.
iv
Remembering
is a bit like taking chances.
I'd rather journey through
dreamy in-betweens,
the little clouds.
v
You want to be
a child again,
begin your journeys
right now
crying, laughing
it doesn't matter--
such a quiet night
the stars tremble
in our voices.
