How cozy that morning
when the deer were in the yard
at daybreak,
soft glow from a book light,
coffee cup in hand.
How forgettable
after all that’s passed—
when the floors heaved
and rocks grew up through the boards.
When everything shook,
even the air rippled too warmly
around my head,
my ears hammering,
tuned in to ghosts
screeching in the hollow, to
the scream that
happens before the crash and echoes
ever after,
when my veins stopped
cold,
flatlined,
in the bite
of
your
words.