your passing was so soft to me, i

wish it could have been where you went to

rest. the voice of dad on the phone

he didn’t make it. come on over, we’ll

head to see them. be quick

but don’t be in a hurry. soft pad of my tires

on cooling asphalt another night

carolina has tucked into its hot limitlessness.

bitter from over-cooking, 2020 is

your wake. Ryan, when your son

said to me i miss my dad

and he smiled, not a tear in his eye

thats yours, i think i felt again

my mind shift in my skull.  yours

is the second death i’ve wondered

whether you can truly die peacefully

with a broken neck. don’t think of it

as violent, i guess, is the trick. think of it

as temporary. as a time for reflection.

breathless, like waking