Many months ago I tried my hand at the pantoum form, using lines pulled from “last letters,” to produce a series of poems that are simultaneously haunting, anxious, and desperate. I’m proud to say that on April 20 all four were published in Chicago’s Literary Orphans magazine (Issue 24: Audrey). Here’s the title poem:

“The sun is leaving the hill now”

The sun is leaving the hill now, I hope nothing else happens.
I have tried to think of some way to go on but can’t.
Cathy, don’t go in the bedroom. I know what I’m doing:
all will and determination to fight on has left me. …

I have tried to think of some way to go on (but can’t).
This is not an easy thing to do (it’s hard to do anything) for
all will and determination to fight on has left me.
Cathy, don’t come in. Call your mother. (She’ll know).

This is not an easy thing to do. It’s hard to do anything for
the sun is leaving the hill now. I hope nothing else happens
—Cathy, don’t come in. Call your mother. She’ll know.
—Cathy, don’t go in the bedroom. I know what I am doing.

You can read the rest of the sequence here.