vocabulary lesson (20170325)

i close my eyes
and the world
spins backwards
maybe five seconds

i hear the goodbye
again
the “eye” syllable
in the air
impossibly physical
bricklike
solid and hot

i close my eyes again
longer
and when i open them
you haven’t said goodbye
not yet
but your lips part

i shut my eyes
but even if i hold them closed
before i was conceived
before my cell split
for the first time
it would do no good

you never said goodbye
after all
it wasn’t a word you knew

copper (20161214)

round red leaves litter the pavement
pennies scattered from threadbare pockets

someone disappeared
and took their words with them

i thought to look because another
returned after a long hiatus

but the ghost
is a mist taken by dry winds

why dwell on another’s choices
why feel the sinking in the chest
the pit of the stomach
why ache for someone i read
but did not know

tomorrow i will look at leaves
and see pennies again
and count their value in more
than copper