Less

You left the flavor of iron.

At night

I often stare at nothing

Hours till I realize

And twist my neck

And sit for minutes longer.

Yesterdays are dead and drifting,

Dusty spirits caught in drifts

And gone.

I see them,

Fix my sight,

I weightless

Yet not floating.

That lost day

I stayed within my chair

And watched the shrinking line.

As others viewed your body,

I still studied your open eyes

Injecting me with helium.

- 2/13/25