Death at twenty-one
When he lost what he thought he would always have

He slips back in his uneasy chair
thinking of broken obligations
softly coughs and starts to cry

1. He remembers her
      as she walked nonchalantly
      through the kitchen
      making breakfast
      with the smell of bacon dripping in the air
      He sees the soft light of love
      winking at him from behind her eyes
      telling him to be still
      and reflect
      He smiles with eyes of innocence
      and reaches for the milk with a mouth full of toast
      eyeing his target

2.   He’s kicking heads in the yard
      while his mother yells from dusty creviced, windowed pains
      telling him it’s time for dinner
      He swears at his friends
      turning around in a euphoric haze
      and stumbles up the stairs

     His mother cooks meat and potatoes
     with responsibilities tied around her waist
     and the smell of familiarity
     drifting around her

     He kicks in the door and smiles
     wearing boots she bought him
     and a jacket he stole from a bar
     She looks at him wondering where he’s been
     and where he’s going
     He coughs and turns from her gaze
     embarrassed at his own predictability

3.  She waits for him; alone
     No houses and commitments to keep her
     until he joins her
     and smiles when he reflects what she taught him