for jolene 

when you think "taste"
what comes into your mind?
is it the dandelions i fed you
on the hill above the well?
the salt block in the yard? a mother 
memory of sweet ribbons 
in the dark? maybe our fingers close
to your nose? i will always think 
of us in the summer before
the metal folding chairs were crushed
& rusted. when we could still hold you
as we sat in them. when we marveled
at your softness & curiosity.
do you remember how the yard 
once had grass? how that first winter 
i brought you all blankets, scared
that the wind was too harsh?
if you had one more secret to give me
what would it be? i want to know
how the stars look when 
we turned the back porch light off. 
maybe if you could tell me that.
i want to jar your bleat & put it
in the cupboard next to the water-glassed eggs
& the walnuts. i cannot believe how high
you could leap. in the first days that you were here
i worried i would wake up
to find you on the roof. i did not but 
once i did find you on top
of the garbage can. i picked you up,
ending your game. i regret only 
not fighting off the boys more 
to make sure you got your piece 
of banana peel. i regret only 
not holding you longer when you
were smaller. i regret only
that the land asks for our beloveds back
& that why is always the wrong question. 
keep me where you go.