Heather: Week 3 of 208

Airport Whiskey

for JSW

This grief is the non-profit tote bag slung over my shoulder

As we shop Newbury Street and

Every plate of carefully curated conference breakfast

That we will never get to eat.

It is us zig-zagging the traffic of Nashville

Rushing to the airport gate and

The leisurely morning mimosas,

The real reason we were late.

It is curbside post-clubbing slices of pizza

Shared under the Austin city lights and

You revealing the news about L.A.

Before we knew how they would cancel our flights.

It is midnight social justice warrior text messages

Of the election strategizing how to survive and

Every rooftop bar we failed to visit

While you were still alive.

It is the beautiful stack of hand cut onion rings

We shared in that Portland, Oregon bar and

Me navigating the country now

Without one of its brightest stars.