is everywhere
the missing dog
lump on the couch
the missing boy
the kids’ room
closed off
for the time being
January
when I tended
to take up
with the wrong men
the lies we tell
to cover the ugly we see
in ourselves
the dog’s wheezing
the future
the past
the rug we traded the car for
memories contained
in this house
window witness
door witness
my memory
little boys
who get broken too soon
grown men
who got broken
as boys
witness
the bundles of humanity
in the crook
of the bridge
hunkering down
in crevices
still too cold
their dogs
what their eyes have seen
rain
my mother
the inability
to be kinder
this life