Emergency Postcard to L.R.
Dandelion stalks populate the yard, reaching
in rusty light, & who knows why
their fuzzy heads are vacant? I can see
the dew on the grass from where I’m sitting
just like I can hear you in your voice.
Who would question my desire
to run outside & feel the dangerous AM
dampness or to risk it all to tell you about it?
—Nate