Your phone became a useless handle 
which forgot how to ring; 
cows across the road were more familiar 
than fading memories of family;


spring bloomed outside the walls flowers swayed in 
meadows fish swam leaped against your speckled 
wallpaper apple pies from your mother's garden grew
like grampaw's nose hairs which you were there to trim when 
he was dying after the Great Depression when the autumn leaves 
fell someone lit a pumpkin and changed your diapers maybe when 
the escape helicopter arrives you'll catch up with your wife who 
after 
50 years together had run away with Death


the films running nonstop like the wheelchair: 
you were cornered, Dad, among the 
living dead.


4 weeks ago at 6:00 am 
January 4 of the year 2000 
my bedroom window was blown 
wide open by a good fresh 
wind from our towering pine tree. 
I got out of bed and knew 
you were dead.


I have made a tall, ample 
coiled clay urn for your ashes. 
I will glaze it with an earth tone 
and put you into it 
just as the buds. 
on the trees are breaking
into song.