Lag

The funeral was back in the spring

when the air was raw and the dirt was wet.

I wore the suit and I said the things

a person is supposed to say, and yet,

it’s October now and the light is wrong.

I found a receipt in a kitchen drawer

for that decaf coffee you liked so much,

the kind nobody drinks here anymore.

I tried to scrape the yellowed tape

from the back of the cupboard door.

It left a tacky, jagged shape

and I finally sat down on the floor.