Sarah Jones

Letter to Alex After His Unexpected Death
             for Alex Tizon
      I like to ease into the morning                            like the slow rise of a river
             in spring                       I leaf from bed to couch                 and the Skykomish
                River is full and flowing                           outside the window
   You died the day I stopped talking to my mother                   She said I hated her      
        because I couldn’t forget              the meth that took her teeth
or the suicide pistol she took into her bathroom                        Alex, our tributaries              
    should have touched at a few more places                                                along this map    
 Your barstool is empty          next to mine                            I sit cross-legged
with my glass full                                             Ask me another question         Tell me again              
            Oh Sarah                      you’re in trouble girl                    
When you describe      how you’re doing                                 say again                                             

    the way I felt seeing the flowers at your funeral
                                                 the way I feel knowing they’ve outlived you.

Sarah Jones is a poet and freelance writer living in Seattle. She is a Poetry Northwest staff member, and was an editorial intern with C&R Press. Before interning with C&R Press, Sarah was an assistant poetry editor of Lunch Ticket and Soundings Review. Her poetry has been featured on NPR and the Bridge. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Entropy MagazineThe Normal SchoolNew Ohio ReviewRaven Chronicles, City Arts Magazine, Yes, Poetryand many other publications. You may visit her website at: