I told my son
About your dirt road
And how we’d drive too fast
Just to kick up dust behind us
Like a demon’s sandy sneeze.

I told him about the graveyard
Across the rocky road
And the long-abandoned church
With its broken stained-glass windows.

I told him about the dull lights
And the squalling caterwauls
Late nights on your back porch.

I told him what we found there
Among the crooked, sun-sprayed tombstones.

I told him all these little things and more.

He responded with a shiver, “Oh, Daddy! Daddy, why?”