the room where I want to rest, I find my hands and am able again to see you— clear eyed where we left one another— last year in the passenger’s seat, having woken after Colorado, which was beautiful and which I did not wake you for, wanting all the aspens, all the golden, quaking aspens, and their silence for myself.
Copyright © 2012 by Leah Naomi Green. Originally published in The Ones We Have (Flying Trout Press, 2012). Used with permission of the author.