Justin Runge

From dark, a note held
in hand, a hand held out.

One man knows a war
starts and ends with him.
His wife keeps a lamp
dim as she possibly can.

The conspirator stands
on the snowed lakeshore
asking for both hands.

A fear of seeing someone
again, but with bruises.
Seeing a garbage truck
tailgate your husband.

So much of the world
is documents held onto.
A diagram photographed.
Hundred names on a list.

A note that says leave
written down on a mirror
so it's easy to rub out.