J.W.

I remember how proud he was
Of his little patch of garden
Red with tomatoes
And his old work boots
Planted with pansies
And I wonder if he watched a last sunset
Before he died
Alone on a bathroom floor with a knife and a needle
And I wonder if there was
Anything else I could have done
But I’ll never know now
And I hope someone else
Remembers him for more than his mistakes
Because that isn’t all he was

#21

His gravestone rested
On a rock pinnacle
Overlooking
The land that had killed him
His ashes scattered to the winds
So he might continue his roaming

She didn’t shed a tear
It would do no good
Death didn’t care
If you walked away bone dry

She was alone again
But for a time he’d reminded her
To enjoy sunrises over mountain tops

She walked away
Softer than she’d been
And stronger because of it.