Half a Number

Three sixty-five The page turned over like a knife I still talk to you in the car Out loud, at red lights, like you're not far Today the date came back around Same gray morning, same church sound I made it through a year of firsts Your birthday was the worst They said the year would soften it They lied a little bit One year without you, Mom And I'm still dialing half a number One year of learning how To carry winter into summer Some things changed — I cut my hair, I cried less in May But loving you stayed exactly the same One year without you I kept your sweater in the passenger seat For months it held your perfume, lilac and clean I wore it til the scent was only mine That loss inside the loss took its own time But I laughed in March — really laughed And didn't feel bad after You'd have hated me in mourning You always said, live, sweetheart One year without you, Mom And I'm still dialing half a number One year of learning how To carry winter into summer Some things changed — I sleep now, I made your stew okay But loving you stayed exactly the same One year without you Next year there'll be two Then ten, then someone new Who'll only know you through the way I speak So I'll keep talking in the car Every mile, exactly where you are One year without you, Mom I'm not dialing — I just hold the number One year, and I know now I can carry winter into summer The calendar will turn, the dates will do their worst But loving you stays exactly the same As the year you held me first Red light. I say goodnight Out loud Like always