I hear some tires not quite like yours but I let myself forget and think, he’s come home at last, though the fantasy fades fast. Driving around with the windows down I catch a scent of baking cookies, a barbecue, a party of some family still together, and I turn to smile at you but you’re not there, so I take in a shallow breath and let the tears flow into my flying hair. I sit with your family talking effortlessly for hours, laughing, and I make an inside joke only you’d know and am transported from a full room to an empty field in a North Carolina mountain where we took in the sun and breeze and held each other close and I feel you there with me. I’m not alone. I exhale, back to your parents and laugh, back in the car and sing, back in our room and whisper to you, i carry your heart. And the quiet answers back, i carry yours in mine.