At This Hour
an otter slithers into the sparkling
bay & in Pensacola
a surfer spots a shimmer
in hot white sand & plucks
out a sleek gold watch with long
hushed gears. At this hour
my neighbor Reena, a hardcore
biker, swerves & misses an 18
wheeler. Someone in Duluth
gets a new liver & somewhere
a good year for soybeans
& snap peas. Stay positive
my grandmother – gone
for two decades now – said & I
try. I talk to her, though
it’s really just speaking to air
& beach glass. Yesterday wind
on my face like a peignoir
& I remembered Jamie,
how he hung himself in the dark
green woods with a rope slung
together with silk
neckties. It’s the dread
& pain, he scribbled with a purple
crayon on lined paper. Jamie,
I pretend we’re at the bar,
jabbering & dancing. I tell you
about the good things that come
when I least expect, how
I’ve learned to remember them
more than the agonies. At this
hour my neighbor Julie scores a $500
scratch-off & wild
roses are having a bountiful
June. Remember Leroy? They gave him two
months to live, but he’s up to six.