by Vera

Blird - by Vera


I hate how
no matter what I do
she's way in the background
fuzzy and washed in my memory now.

I was thinking for a long while
that it was just because
immediate life is so sharp

that by comparison
Amy is distant,
indistinct,

but no.

Even if I focus on her
she's caught in haze
beyond
what is
life now.

Anger flames me
that I seem to be moving on,
my lens of life
trained on beef jerky and silent packages and
arguments with Lon and
this wind-scoured scrub and
a mining town
this far from what was home.

I still see her.
Amy fading like background.

But if I don't see her at all,
my sister'll really be gone,
and I can't let that happen.

So I'll keep my eye on the blurred distance
and remain angry.