Looking Ahead He Looks Back
Those things we leave behind.
The rooster’s full moon crow
or the blue enameled cast iron pot
bearing the scars of a thousand
meals. Hair on a brush. Harsh
night words and the photos of
a wooden lighthouse from a
discarded life. We choose some,
misplace others. How does a home
curdle within one night’s orbit?
The answer is not your truth. Or mine.
I measure my life in hours lost.
* * *
“Looking Ahead He Looks Back” was first published in Juke Joint, in March 2020.
O at the Edges 
Beautiful, Bob – pensive, open, melancholy. I especially like “How does a home
curdle within one night’s orbit?” It can seem like that.
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Thanks, Cate. There are times when one night seems like thousands of nights.
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