what we have now is a photo:
Katherine and I with the wedding cake
under a park shelter

and there he is outside
in the background alone and small
and brilliant in the sunlight.

He called me once to talk about fungi:
their dark networks
that join the living and the dead

but that was before he went into the basement
and Katherine pressed the button
and his body released into the air
...

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In the house
we found rooms full of paper
where he wrote

what we should have known
in such detail
that there wasn't much to say.

This was the year
of the election
when everything was going to change

but in there it had already
happened


and it was for us
to fill our arms with the pages
and to carry

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