Dear Mom,
______Look, I made sure to indent
past the elbow of the r
______in Dear. I know etiquette means
the world to you— the good kind,
______with oceans.

______I had a car wreck last night. My fault.
The silver metal lipped
______over a stretch of asphalt and bit. My arm bled
______on the window, but I only noticed
the old brown leaves outside,
______holding hands with oak branches
and then letting go.

______The insurance company
left bouquets of voicemail
______tied with a woman’s voice
like a fraying string.
______I’m sorry I haven’t
called you yet.
______My phone
(among other things)
______died.

______That was crass and I’m
sorry.
______No one died, though they
drove us to the hospital
______separately. I never even saw
his face.

______I think I can see Polaris
tonight. You introduced us
______that night in California,
on our family trip
______to the Redwoods. You just
wanted us to look up.

______Mom, have you ever
walked alone under those
______white lights the flies like?
The ones along the interstate
______that would mirror the stars
if they didn’t wear black
______plastic shells.
Have you ever felt them
______peer over your shoulders
at the ice-faced Earth
______when every sound
is snow?
______I hope you haven’t—
it’s like
______a hole.