at the art taped up
that day it all began
it was like for the first time
dad wasn’t squinting
from a hangover
no he was just aching from
his leg and back
I think I’ll walk
I said
he nodded like
a cowboy
just the once
Go for it.
I walked the long way home
trying to get myself back
to myself
in the woods
in the trees
but not
not really
not really able to
It Hurt How Many
trees had fallen
in the storms
toppled cracked jagged off
from their trunks
dismembered
on the ground
some in a final huddle
hiding from the fury
some stark alone
bleeding black water
ash oak and maple
like bodies wrecked
and flung
in ditches
on some battlefield
down south
sure more light came
down onto the trail
joggers doggers bikers
would love that
when I got near home
I saw the mossy roof
of our dark house
now even had
a splash of gold
across the shingles
it would be there
for an hour in the morning
from the hole where
some tree used to be
but living things
had died
for all that light
aspen pine birch
oak and ash and maple
it presses on your heart
like the heel
of someone’s iron glove
to see a thing
so tall reaching from
deep under us
to the big wide blue
now lying twisted there
split
amputated
stock-still
no life
no breath
all wrong
branches and sticks
scattered everywhere
along the trail
just lying where they lie
there is no putting
a tree back up after
it’s broken
and fallen
in a storm
maybe with us
with people
it’s different
maybe
I Thought
of Rachel gone
and it was fine
good
good enough
quieter
time would go by
as it was passing
in the woods
all the final leaves
would fall
the sticks would fall
I’d walk the trail
as slow as I could walk
I found after a while
the questions
in my head
were mostly mine
and this over all the others
Rachel,
can I tell you
one last thing?
I Thought I Was
okay living
with a wire dad
a stick dad
who had
fallen only near
to me
I’d lived
that way
for years
so I was doing fine
me a single
thing alone
motherless
not slow maybe
but not quick either
who tried to not care less
about whatever
then you busted in
forced your way in me
like you busted in
the camper that night
I thought I was junk
until I saw your drawing
of me
I thought I saw things
but you see things too
you saw a thing
beneath
my face my look
it wasn’t normal no
so far from normal
but not junk either
you can do a lot
you could listen more
get out of your own head
but you can do a lot
so much more than most
so
go
please
and do the thing that
makes you do it
just go and do it
when that was out
when I had got that out
the words I’ll tell her
someday soon
whatever they might mean
the trail went quiet
my head
my jumping heart
went quiet
as quiet
as I needed them
to be
The First Thing I Saw
when I made it out back
was a can of soda
on the roof
of the camper bus
then Jimmy moved
half-in half-out
the driver’s door
spray cleaner in his hand
half a dozen
empty tins of motor oil
and three five-gallon
tanks of gasoline
two gleaming headlights
with their wires to the sky
were sprawled
across the ground
like the remains
of a party
the engine panel
in the rear
was tipped up
kneeling under it
his hands deep inside
the motor guts
was Ray
his wife’s legs
bent out from under
the bus
both knees up
as she clanked and swore
something sharp
and Ray laughed
Shh. The kid.
dad turned
and nodded
his chin at me
I came over
what’s all this?
what are you doing?
my chest filling
with hot dripping
salt water
Dad?
he gave me then
a wrinkled smile
nodding and nodding
as he fished for words
while my heart sank
and rose
and my veins
went cold as ice
June.
he said
just
June.
That’s All He Said
June? what about June?
After it’s all done.
what are you talking about?
After school is done.
After you rebuild his house.
We’ll go. I’ll pick you up.
Maybe on the last day.
And we’ll go.
where?
Denver.
Salt Lake.
Idaho.
I don’t know.
Wherever.
I stared at his face
it didn’t sag
from too much beer
his eyes were on me
watching my forehead
the muscles around
my eyes
my mouth
taking me in
To all those states she loved.
and the soaking lump
inside my chest
my throat
pushed up into my eyes
I wiped my face
on my sleeve
really?
You can navigate.
I need you . . . to help me do that.
Anyway, we’ll do our best.
Hell, I don’t know if we can even
Find those places again
After all these years.
But we can try.
And you should see them.
She’ll be there, a part of her.
and I shivered
to my toes
and felt like falling
down in tears
which like they planned it
was when Mrs. Ray
leaned in the cabin door
and turned the key
and Ray stood back
and the engine’s
wheels and belts
exploded
with a haze of blue
it coughed and sputtered
then seemed to die
then caught again
and the whole bus
quaked to life
jiggling
on its cinder blocks
near the edge of the woods
in the back of the yard
at the end of the trail
then Jimmy slapped
me lightly on the arm
and pointed to
the nowhere road
where his weekday
beer guy Mike
was driving in
with four more or less
usable tires
bulging from his
bungee-corded trunk
I Almost Cried
right then and there
no way was dad
a wire dad
I couldn’t say that now
maybe a stick
but if he was one
then I was too
either way
storm or no storm
we were together
two things
in the same place
at the same time
so
good for us
Behind the Church
the planks I hadn’t
thrown away
those cleaned-up
two-by-fours
I spent hours on
were what we’d use
to frame the shed
my father had driven
them over and
dropped them off
one morning
without telling me
Father Percy’s back
was to me when
I came up through
the woods
that first day
one hand on his hip
a hammer hanging from the other
he’d already cleared away
the old studs and boards
and cleared the floor
which we would use
because it was intact
he heard me
through the brush
turned his head
I stopped
didn’t know what
to say
so he said
Look at this.
and went to a stump
where a big envelope sat
he slipped out a
heavy sheet of paper
with tissue taped
over it
She drew it for me.
For my wall.
For when we finish this.
it was exact
the Michelangelo
the face of Jesus
with his crown
and his eyes that
looked inside your heart
my chest ached
like that first time
I saw her art
she saw that picture
for half a second
not even that long
we were hardly
in the door before
I pushed her out . . .
But she caught it, his face,
Jesus, with all the sorrow and glory
Of that small moment
When He looks at you. It’s here.
It’s what she found in you
On the train.
This is her gift.
if she uses it right
maybe
Instead of being a forger,
Which she could be, I think.
he snorted
a laugh
probably wanted
me to join him
but I couldn’t
I was crying inside
Are you excited about your trip?
trip?
Out west.
how did you know about that?
Your father. We’ve talked a bit.
Not much. A little.
it stunned me
that my father
would talk
and now I almost couldn’t
You did a decent thing.
A kind thing.
She has a long road, yes,
But this, this talent
Will help, I think.
We need this beauty now.
She’s
