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 ChroniclesCity Arts Magazine, Yes, Poetryand many other publications. You may visit her website at: