Wind Sock

No matter how
he bends, he doesn’t forget
to smile. I wonder
what you would think
of him—but you won’t tell

because you’re dead.
You wouldn’t dance—just nodded
your head. That lilt. The music
was what mattered most to you,
then nothing

but the bottle
beside your bed.

Then there was only one way
out of the ICU. No more
going in either direction
on a boulevard with car dealership
wind socks to draw you in.

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