June bugs, thunderstorms,
hurricane glass. I had never

been so far from home or
so long from it.

Some places are just
hanging on, even as a kid

you can feel it, floating on
the surface while the river

runs deep. Don’t let that
dog out all alone, there’s

gators.  I lost this place,
all the way. First an empty

boat slip, the pool filled in,
then huddled in the workshop

after the wake, sawdust
and dust like snow,

snow laughable in this
kind of heat.  Everything

used to seem bigger,
still, the screen door

sighed shut after us
in the same old way.