What Has Not Yet Left

An excerpt taken from the poem "The Arsonist's Wife Has Not Yet Left Him" Nothing left to live for, the man told the reporters and all of us, his neighbors, gathered around him.

He brushed ash from his face and looked back at the bare, wet-black rafters of his new house still smoking.

You never forget this, he said, wiping at the lines dragging soot down both cheeks.