A daughter planned her sister’s birthday.
A lawyer laid out clothes for the morning.
Lovers painted the room in the back of the house.
I organized bank statements, left instructions
for my father. For my mother, whose heart
would collapse, I left nothing.
Walk to the basement, hang the rope,
move the chair, plan the party, watch
the sunrise, or watch it set.
Daniel turned in his science project.
Jessica went to war. And came back.
Eric and Dylan shot 29 people.
A woman wrote a letter to a friend
who would miss her. A father made breakfast.
A teenager rode his skateboard in the dark.
To read more poetry by Katy Richey go to www.depoetry.com/poets/201601/11_katy_richey.html.