John and I got engaged under the moon on the winter solstice, December 22
The day we married, we were 22
On his way to Mulegé, Joey was 22
He liked the myth of Icarus and the novel Catch-22
The cross street where Joey left this earth was 22
That fateful date was 12/22/22
Yesterday, while riding, I spontaneously checked my mileage, and it was 22
And today, as inconceivable as it is that my memory or love would or could ever expire, even a milk carton wants to make sure I don’t forget 22
I couldn’t possibly
His days were too short and the days since are too long
I could never get too close to my son
