I wish that I could wake up

To my mother hanging clothes

Over the space-heater

And my father putting a white blanket

Over the frozen ground,

Tucking it in before

The world wakes up



I wish that I could tumble

Out of bed and

Down the stairs

And over the rug

In the living room

That I've always hated

Because of its ugly color,

And then stop

In front of the kitchen

To smile

At the pancakes

On the stove.


I wish that I could open

The back door and

Run right past

My father, who

Would stand and stare

Like I was crazy,

And then nod his head

In understanding

As he saw your face

Creeping over

The dead winter landscape,

A finger to your lips

To keep me quiet

As you lured me

Into heaven.