For Uncle Rob

my sister and I cackled

a laugh that resonates

across time, and space, and reason

while driving in our Prius

joking about holding knives

and accidentally stabbing someone

our anxiety actualized

it was the last time we saw him

my sister behind the wheel

backing out of his driveway

my uncle in his front entryway

the evening light dimming

locking the door

in the house he died in

one month later -

my sister and I remember

the way he lived, the memories he created

and while we drove away,

listening to our anxious heartbeats

propelling us forward,

we were infinite &

while we knew that already

sometimes you don't know

when it's the last time

you'll see somebody

I think he'd appreciate

us laughing uproariously

into that kind of darkness

into the life he’s watching

from above us -