We sailed out further than I ever imagined and turned to look back, gauge the distance, watch the changing sky.

The day we gathered to remember you, fires rampaged across our state as the diablo winds whipped October and stories circled like whirling leaves

I am no longer all bones and angles. My sharp points have been sanded smooth, gently curved into a softer version of my former self.

… even this late, it comes — the knowing, the unbearable laid true for five years: you are gone.

You don’t notice the dying leaving
when they really choose to leave you.