you will find your river bed voice next year
& make your peace with the crayfish next year 

hair pulled strand by strand from black trash can lips
replant them-- you will grow daughters next year 

burn old photographs--mark forehead with ash
she is dead now-- you can visit next year 

live annual: mouth daffodil ready 
feel March biting: you've been alive one year

eating white hourglass sand--spoon in hand
you remember her less clear year to year

i blue-dream i'll kiss you into next year 
your aqua body beneath clouds all year