without him
I patch the hole
in his sweater
milling the pepper
into the pot
early dusk
hey spider—
how’d you snag
that corner office
days of heat
splitting the melon
between us
cherry blossoms
I lag behind
the chatterbox
quiet sea
barely a wave
from the distance runner
his shoulder
my pillow
the longest night
small talk
the sauce bubbling
on a low flame
winter sun
never enough
gratitude
tenth decade
he shows me
all the backroads