The stricken deer,

/ /

the leaf in fall, the bud in spring, the turn
of key to key, the note of shock, the day
the petals burst the breeze, a solemn May
when I forget to memorize and learn
the drive to Berryville to get the urn
of ashes labeled with your name. Please stay,
please be at home alive. You went away
and left me only with a tender burn
and warming weather like an unpaid debt.
You died in cold, as if you didn’t know
the knowing that you knew became regret.
You died inside a house of fallen snow,
and have you found the map for springtime yet?
You made a frozen dash, you said your no.