Godspeed

We buried your father
in the rain that always seems to fall
on graveside ceremonies. I wanted
to throw a handful of dirt on the coffin
but around here folks don’t like
to make a fuss, and besides
I hardly knew him.

Later someone accused me
of trying to confuse my readers,
then tacked on the backhand compliment
that I’m too good a writer
to do such a thing
by accident,

so I bought a blender on sale,
on impulse, hid it
from myself on a high shelf
in an empty closet,

and now my very words are beginning to sound
like yours.