Living
Some of the people I have loved
seemed to carry
an impossible abundance.
As though sunlight moved through them
at a higher concentration.
They laughed harder.
Showed up more.
Left footprints
in the snow and then ate it.
One careened off the side
of the road on Halloween night.
One left no note,
only a noose at sea.
One gunned down at lunchtime,
mistaken for someone else.
One we are still waiting
to understand.
And I find myself
unnerved by my own pulse.
Checking for it.
Finding it.
Unable to explain
why the current remains
when it seemed so much stronger
in them.