home fires

it has been their home for three years now
enough land for their horses
a balcony out front for his dog
and room for her boy  
all his photos and memories up
 
(every year his room gets a little more taken over  
first year a shrine, his and his alone  
next year ribbons up too, from her horse event wins  
 
this year it’s him, horse stuff and her office  
 
time passing  
 
hard but good)
 
they are getting married today  
an at-home thing  
I’m there to sign the witness papers  
next of kin  
just them  
me  
and the photographer  
 
she is sick  
something not right  
a thing no doctor has found a name for yet  
 
I’ve wondered before if that was part of the reason for today
but won’t think it anymore
 
I watch them together  
her in her dress  
her man cleaned up to as clean as he gets
her all colour and joy
him stoic like he likes it
playing it quiet
grin ear to ear  
 
she looks so happy  
like I don’t remember when  
and I love the man for that
 
think back to that other room  
at the end of the house  
where the boy’s last thoughts are  
 
he’d be happy too  
dead or alive  
old enough to stand here with me
talking shit
and long on the laughter
 
would feel the same way about her
 
I stand outside  
drinking smoking
dressed up
wearing my father’s watch  
 
I keep an eye on them through the glass doors  
photographer says “now look at each other”  
they laugh and play
serious and not  
while the dog at my feet
looks up at me  
I take a drag on my smoke
Chinese lung killers  
put the smoke in my drink hand  
pat him  
 
everyone’s living well today  
 
catch myself in the mirror  
last man standing  
 
Christ I look old  
 
look through my reflection to her and him  
 
feels cold out here
but it’s warm inside