Reader's Notes

One day, maybe

And one day I'll wake up alone,
It's inevitable.
But that'll be alright I think.
The idea is that I'll do things right
And make peace with
everything before its time,
Before theirs, or mine.
But yeah, one day I'll wake up alone.
And maybe it'll rain,
Or it'll be snowin',
But I'll be in my bedsheets,
With just one leg of my PJs on,
And I'll reach out
To turn off my alarm,
And call out to my speaker
To put on a little song,
And I will listen for
A little while
And feel quiet and calm.
I'll make breakfast for myself,
Three eggs, no more;
I buy cartons less often
Nowadays,
It's good for the budget.
I'll sit down with a warm cup
Of that tea that my
Friend showed me,
I'll crack open a book
I'd never have heard about
If not for my brother,
And I'll drink alone,
Like I woke up,
And like I may go
To bed. 
But there's lots of in-between,
And that,
That is so full.
I'm surrounded by love
And people to hug,
Even some to kiss
Once on the cheek,
Like my family did,
Like I continue,
And I pray I pass on.
Winter is warm then,
With my heating,
And the bodies of
New family
Home for the holidays,
Laughing and cheering,
The young ones
Running with nerf guns
And paper planes.
My nephew says,
"She's going to be
a pilot one day."
I have to laugh quietly,
Knowing she's—
Maybe—just like her
Grandmother,
Though it remains to be seen.

And I wake up alone again,
And I part open the curtains,
Reaching up from my bed.
And it's sunny out,
Like I hoped it'd be,
And I smile then,
Gratefully,
And when they close those curtains,
They'll sleep alone then.
And when the bedsheets get
Washed (just once more)
They'll be ready to sell,
And my closet of old clothes
And sweaters (that still smell
Like you) will be given a dust-off
And brought to the thrift store.
Some kid will buy your old jacket,
And think it's the coolest,
Hippest, mid-20s thing
They've ever seen
In-person.
And I will wake with company,
With you, and mama, and old family.
And I will spend the day with
Only further warmth,
Then, I'll sleep again
With company, my one boy beside me,
My baby,
Who came to be beloved.
And I won't have my speaker then
To play some gentle music,
But it plays somehow anyway
Somewhere, in some corner,
Of the great blue sky,
And it sounds even better
Than back in real life.
We bring the stars out,
Ask the constellations their names,
And they're all very nice,
Except for Orion—
Missing, but for the belt.
I met Amy the other day,
Told her I'd been doing a
Lot of waking up alone.
She said, "don't worry babes,
It only gets better up here."
She's just as sweet as I imagined,
And she sings like a dream.