Jen taking the salad out of the refrigerator

 

so
she bends at the knees
leans
into the open fridge
talks to me
about events of the day
her hair
falls forward
her face
faces me
even as her hand
reaches into
the refrigerator’s light
catches her
perfectly

and this frozen moment
reminds me
of all the reasons why
and isn’t it just like the mind
that it takes a shard
to capture the whole

all the years
all the moments
that blend
and are forgotten
until a moment such as this
when she leans into a fridge

and I remember
everything
but not everything
just the essence

the way a smell
can capture all
when in reality
it is but a part

Bury me Standing

When I die bury me standing; don’t lay me flat,

stretched out on my back, stand me straight,

plant me upright, plant me like a tree, bury me

with dignity. I’ll be dead for an eternity so stand me

don’t lay me flat, like meat on a cold, hard slab

waiting for butcher Fate, with his bloodied apron

to slice me asunder. Stand me up, push my lips

into a grin, stick a quill in my hand, paper in the other;

let me stand facing sunrise with a thousand new poems

to capture. When I die don’t listen to the undertaker —

drop me vertically; let me face the future as if

I was in the wings waiting for my cue to re-enter.