if I had known about the certainty of his death
been able to see it take my brother slowly
so he was no longer my brother
I would wish for death fast as new love
his car into a tree, windshield glass like
diamonds connecting with a face
a fall from a great height like a dream of falling
the body broken but the soul escaping
if I knew I would give up hope like a bad habit
and take on any news
a gun, shot by a stranger
the regretful trigger pull of something hurried
even his heart arresting at home
his heart, with all its difficult light turned off
or the ocean rolling him under for keeps
the benevolent ocean flooding his lungs
any of this I would welcome
Alyson Miller, reviewing internal weather in Cordite, September 15th, 2014.
miscarriage
almost six
hope
paper aeroplanes
advice to the woman you will love