Two large trees drop
their early pecans
against the roof. It’s nearly
fall, and the sound
reminds me of footsteps.
This morning one fell,
rolled and rolled, and I,
forgetting the pecans,
thought someone was in the attic.
Your ghost, perhaps.
First fear, then joy, then
a sigh of realization:
you are not coming back.
How many times
will I come to this? Your antique
lamps, a pillow
made from your shirts,
the photo I found when I moved
yet again— you and I at our shared
birthday party, cakes
side-by-side, candles lit (16 & 44),
both of us taking in
a breath just after
the wish, just before
we extinguished
all that fire. You missed
yours this year, the first
of the rest, which means
I want to skip mine and
I want to celebrate,
cake ablaze,
more than ever— a reminder
that soon enough,
I won’t be here, either.
I carry on, each day’s
distance growing
both longer and shorter.
There is much
to do in the interim. There is nothing
to do but wait.

Stephanie McCarley Dugger’s collection of poetry, Either Way You’re Done (2017), was published by Sundress Publications and their chapbook, Sterling (Paper Nautilus, 2015), was winner of the Vella Chapbook contest. Their essays and poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Arts & Letters, Baltimore Review, Mid-American Review, Poet Lore, Spoon River Poetry Review, Tampa Review, and other journals. They teach Creative Writing at Auburn University at Montgomery and also serve as Creative Nonfiction editor at Los Angeles Review and Thirteen Bridges Review.
