Widower Nights


in the end, all the nights he'd
    laid awake thinking of her heart

    and his, the shore falling into the sea--
seemed so much smaller and

    farther away than the one or two
times he'd laid awake trying to think

of almost nothing.
    he'd almost always believed

    (oh especially now) there was never
a thing more familiar than the self.

then remembered the times
    he spoke her name, held her hand.