The last few poems leapt from my arms

they have minds of their own, they want to undo

all that was undone in the year gone by,

they want to skip over bodies that floated

through my life. I built a dam to silence them

but they return in gurgles of laughter,

ridiculing my efforts to wish them away.

Someone sent me a video of a man

massaging a live pig, planning to carve it

to a festive happy song. I cried.

My girls do not understand why I cry

I don’t either, but tears come so easy.

The leg of ham is roasting, glazed, dripping

honey. I believe the family will be happy, I’m

at that stage of life where I believe anything.

And everything can make me cry.