Remembering Emily By Rita Mae Reese

While lying on the cold head of her car
looking at a constellation I am unable to name
I wonder if death is lurking
like a battery seats in the next block.
I close my eyes and listen
to the hum of the distant highway
drowning out the savage stars.

The kitchen light leaves bright
squares in the grass. Inside,
she is laughing. My eyes closed,
I can see her petting stray cat
on the church steps in the middle of the night
and I can see the distance
that has grown between us since.
I open my eyes and her laughter
is a constellation, old and blameless.