O thank god
you’re finally here
to ferry us into the dark
filtered through the firs
to remind me of my greenness.
Everything is green
even my daughter’s open wound.
A cut on a scar on a knee.
I snapped at the kids
all through dinner—
irritated at the slight of my nose & jaw
on their faces. You saw that, right?
You were right there on their brows, pooled
in the dimples of their chins. I raised my voice
against my selves & immediately
apologized. I think that’s growth.
Is that new growth, old love?
Maybe that’s unfair to ask
After dropping off the kids,
I drove straight for the ocean.
Startled to have stopped, the shore
stippled in gold, I breathed in the salt
laced in gold. The driftwood got that shine
on it & broken shells flecked in gold.
Even the sea birds dipped in gold.
Everyone knows the trick of the golden
hour is that it all ends in dark,
but the part I’ll never forget
is the second before the sun’s final snarl—
ending with blood in the sky.