written after reading An Inheritance
a short story by Craig Kirchner


You claimed the clock,
the one that hadn’t run
for as long as her mind

You tucked it under your arm
and ran
away from the pain
that followed you like a stray cat

sniffing the cream
in your coffee,
or the scent of Sunday
yellow in the snow.

You only knew
you had to go
before your head

or the last rust colored leaf
rasped its way to dust
in the vase
on the table that you didn’t take.