the way he still chases you in dreams,
his dead brother,
then stares into blankness
when he wakes.
i want to dive into his dog dreams
run with him in the woods
over the hill with the purple
wash of henbit
to where you live now.
~~
there’s a storm passing
on both sides of sleep.
the lightning explodes
a feral pack in the darkness
& a walnut limb creaks
over the place you are buried.
i dreamed you were curled on the sofa
with your head in my lap.
i was scratching the silk fur
under your throat—
the calm, the calm
in the storm’s wild clapping of thunder.
~~~
