In Answer to a Question About Place (2007)

for LBJ

When your ear’s hard-wired by water, somewhere there’s a bridge you can’t stop crossing,
but it took a funeral to bring me back to the Gulf.

I knew my bridge was gone. (The only memory I never questioned, and
the pylons went down like dominoes.)

I drove down to the beach anyway, the night before the funeral.
Arrive everywhere after dark, right? The loss blends in.