box of jars

Alison Palmer

in memory of RVN

Though Vacant the World Goes on Revolving

Our moments aren't endless fields—unfortunate fences. Sometimes, an elegy is appropriate. The other end of the phone line, silent now. In the backyard, one side of the tree, dead—I keep coming back to you. And the sky took pictures on your passing day. Often, the brightest thing in front of us is shadow.