Cracked Like Creation

The sky was separated from the sea, and it cried for you.

The night you died, the world:

cracked
like
creation

With the faintest light
And the longest day
The sky was separated from the sea, and it cried for you

And the land I walked on felt unsteady,
	Like going East, perpetually
And the night was terribly lonely
And the Suns and Moons were missing

— — —

We read at your funeral;
What I found highlighted in your book:
	Matthew 22:39
        “Love your neighbor as yourself.”

— — —

With the faintest light
And the longest day
The sky was separated from the sea, and it cried for you

And the land I walked on felt unsteady,
	Like going East, perpetually
And the night was terribly lonely
And the Suns and Moons were missing

— — —

I have cigarettes and a lighter, and I am
wondering if smoking is a Christlike thing to do,
but the name on the box says “Spirit,” like they’re holy.

Here I am, in a frigid, snowy winter,
The kind written about in Christmas hymns.
I am two hands, snapping together, creating light
from emptiness.   

American Spirits with Papa’s lighter