1.
I was awake
on the morning
the fog mustered up
the courage
to contact you.
It was like moss
growing across the door
and tapping
tree limbs
combined.
2.
You stopped moving
two weeks ago.
There are things you should have said, she said—
gowns parted against
humming machines,
hazardous materials.
What is the answer to the universe,
I couldn’t tell you.
Blinded ravens
spell the sequence
of your memory.
You were all I had left.
(Broken flowers.)