If you were living it would complicate
If you were even missing, on this date
Your sister's married. She has children now,
he never comes for Christmas. And by now
as soon as we get past that:
but I'm not.
You look so promising in the collage
whatever it would take to still the rage
until they fix it (anyone). Your face
so much waste.
* * *
For those who patch a life together out
despite that — them especially. Some doors
To patch a life
Kathryn Jacobs is a poet and medievalist and Texas A & M - C who lost her son Ray at 18 in 2005. Generous, empathic and much loved, Ray has now been 'legally dead' long enough to be unknown to his sister Rachel's two small children. She keeps him alive in her poetry, which now spans four books and chapbooks (the latest , In Transit, appeared last year from David Robert Books) and over 150 individual publications in journals like The New Formalist, Measure, Poetry South, Raintown Review, Whiskey Island and Wordgathering. She also has a scholarly book, Marriage Contracts from Chaucer to the Renaissance Stage (Florida University Press) and fourteen articles.