When the black dress falls to the floor,
I can’t breathe.
Asleep, now?
-don’t act so surprised
A smile tenderly crosses her face;
the candle light flickers;
and stars form in her eyes.
There are words written on the wall
with a jumbo Sharpe.
‘Memories share themselves with you.’
My heart is miles away,
buried in a jar
in my sister’s backyard,
with bones and feathers,
and a Minnesota Red Pipestone pipe.
Got to remember to dig it up before,
she moves.
Dreams cross the room,
the memories seem so clear,
the evidence has been displayed and argued
in every poem.
-don’t get up
or go sentimentalist on me.
She said,
with a pale widow smile
Smyon-Pa 