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from "December Songs"

You get messy. And tangled in colored light. The house was bigger in your memory. Felt. Like a steak house. Thrones around the table. Forks and candles long as your arm. An elm. Your father's guitar. Silence. Fresh snow of doilies. Your mother beautiful and full of holes. Your mother the comb. The seer. Rest. The phone rings here. There are things to be said. Like hold on he's in the basement. And. The girls arrive tomorrow. And. Yes. The recovery. Haven't you heard. Our friend in the hospital hit by a car. Recognizes me. Silence. Swirls her good eye.