it’s been years since they shut down the Grand
and we stood on the steps with Henry eulogizing
how matter is only transformed
never destroyed
she went out west
me I headed south
neither remarried
these are brass for gold days now
ragweed for roses
foregoing victory for the small prize
of survival
watching our children grow
strumming songs sad&low
in twilight
of those years I have only a vague fondness
but her I remember clearly
she keeps coming back
our love like an exhaustion you never get over
I steer the car slowly
going nowhere down a country road
shadows are growing long but Kate
it’s not over
the stalks heavy, their
celebration of petals over
another terrible summer
another day means nothing
Kate it’s not over.
Going for the Throat 
[…] inspired to write to such a brilliant and gorgeous dynamo as you. You’re making this easy, Kate, easier than it usually is writing to others which is anyway heaps better than writing for and/or […]