Some more poetry

For

This is for Alanis Morissette.
This is for the hug that Jesse gave me today
and the message Kathleen left.

This is for Annie,
who shares her room
and her love of Star Trek
and books and art and England.

This is for Hugh Laurie and
Catherine Tate
and Jordan Tait
and a book of Robert Frost’s poetry.

This is for Carrie
and for the sheer curtains that hang
in her living room.

This is for the way that Evan
glowed when he stood in front of
South Medford High School’s Concert Choir.
For not always being seventeen.

This is for 82 degrees of sunshine.
And for Nathan twirling his coat over his head
when he danced.
For his laughter.

This is for changes.
For new faces and new walls.
For taking things out of boxes.

This is for darkness
and being terrified
and for not getting enough sleep
and for Oma and Opa
and the lives of their children.

This is for the men that have jumped from windows
For the women who have
taken a sip for every blow.
For my stepmother and the
seven children
buried before they took their first breaths.

This is for 1000 milligrams
of naproxen sodium.
For my sisters’ voices
and for double chocolate brownies.

This is for Daddy and the desperate
people of Bolivia.
For Loyal Mont Whittaker
and the uniform he was buried in.

For my great grandmother,
and the trees she pulled down to
keep her children warm.