driving home

At 65 miles per hour
it’s easy to lose track of time
and place, phone on the seat
beside me, headset plugged, I am
multi-tasking, I am productive, I go down
my list. Suddenly I swerve
suddenly I want to call my mother
I want a simple call I want
it more than I want anything. I remember instantly
the reality, that we cannot speak, my brain
has made a heartbreaking mistake.
My eyes well, I stay
in my lane, careening forward
I make no more calls.
No one tells you
you will still forget death
after four years.