I’ll walk to the cemetery tonight and find you
like we did in college
when phones were fat with squiggly tails
and I always hoped it was you
I’d start off up the hill above my dorm
soft jeans and sensible shoes
loud, blue parka
nothing at all in my pockets
through ushering pines and rotting wet
the still hour
neither day nor night
down that side street so thick with biology it buzzed
I’d break into the clearing where you’d find me
Take my hand
Smoke with the other
Grin at the moon in her misty wrap
Everyone sleeps so we can breathe, you’d say
We were never sad there
Headstone companions
Pretty names and numbers
We’d talk above their bones
and they’d lean into our campfire voices and sigh
Sobriety Poet 