Fragments
Memories
that
rise
and
shudder,
moths
compelled
to
flail
against
a
lighted
window,
moments
shed,
a
succession
of
quick
small
breaths
as
light
burns,
then
ages
into
something
cold
-
and
yet
we
imagine.
A
Moment
in
Dying
This
was
nothing
but
the
dream
of
winter,
dark
chambers,
white
grief
that
made
a
place
of
you,
and
then
the
careful
coming
out
of
sleep,
an
awareness
of
one's
own
country-
this
leaning
into.