i saw you slumped down at the funeral home, you almost fell right off your seat. the tanned leather on the oaken armrest couldn't offer the support you need. you felt better when we stepped outside, face washed clean by the cool spring. you wiped your eyes and demanded we go boost a car that could carry us from here to where i caught you sleeping up in federal heights, when i thought you were on my couch. a drapery of blankets covered a bench in the park across from your old house.