i.

What now, the end of day sighs into the leaves a last shudder. The wind is alone and the birds, strange cacophony, alone too. One more mile possible, one more task or kiss or walk around the blockbefore time ticks its heels, the world thrusts headlong toward some morning where these dishes stack clean in the cupboard I open, take in my hands, and set around the table once again.

ii.

The summer of so much dying sat in the car and wouldn’t get out until it was good and ready then it rattled through the cat’s teeth, made her hair stand away from her body. Her spine enumerated every sorrow. She went blind, her claws frayed. This was just the cat, not our own kind. We received the news as you’d expect. At first no one could believe it. Then we made lunch and ate everything.

iii.

Thirsty Dog, the dog barks a full moon madness no one resists. Mosquitoes close in and sprinklers whine far into farther hours. All life hums, freeway, sorrow, the course of blood through my veins. Even in the grave something stirs.

iv.

A return to summer nights what we hold our breath for. Watching for the moon our due portion like an evening glass of wine you wait for all day. Moonlight splashes up the sides. A fine drunkenness, every step a stagger. Unbearable this intoxication, the desire to go no further, impossible to resist each mellowing shadow.