For Dave There is sun. Three geese fly Close enough to the water’s Surface to be skipped stones. I take to the dock and hop into The skiff, collect the tackle box And rods from yesterday, even find Your Islanders cap that you swore The wind snatched. I look out onto the lake. The sun … Continue reading The Morning You Die
Tag: Mathieu Cailler
Anniversary
He sits by himself, at a cheap Italian place on Mulholland. Loud opera music, cheap bread, and Chianti in its little straw suit. After paying the bill, he finishes his decaf, and takes one of the Crayons from the glass jar, usually reserved for children. He never liked it here, but she did, and it’s … Continue reading Anniversary
Gestation
I do not want children, yet I hide this from my Wife. She speaks of motherhood, pregnancy, asks Questions To her sister who has twin girls, shares photos With me Of her friends’ newborns. Aren’t they adorable, She asks. Look at how magical they are, she says. Yes, yes, I Answer. They are. Absolutely beautiful, … Continue reading Gestation
The Clearing
“WHAT'S THAT?” Emily turned Kaleb’s way and knocked a pillow to the floor. She said it again. “Hmm?” Kaleb said, half asleep. “That noise,” Emily said. She placed her hand on Kaleb’s chest. “Do you hear that?” Kaleb took a second, rubbed his eyes, and worked his tongue around his mouth. “It’s just the wind, … Continue reading The Clearing