Pale Green Things

got up before dawn
 went down to the racetrack.
 riding with the windows down
 shortly after your first heart attack.
 you parked behind the paddock,
 cracking asphalt underfoot,
 coming up through the cracks
 pale green things
 pale green things
 we watched the horses run their workouts.
 you held your stopwatch in your left hand
 and a racing form beneath your arm,
 casting your gaze way out to no man's land.
 sometimes I'll meet you out there
 lonely and frightened.
 flicking my tongue out at the wet leaves
 pale green things
 pale green things
 my sister called at three a.m.
 just last december.
 she told me how you'd died at last, at last
 and that morning at the race track was one thing I remembered.
 I turned it over in my mind
 like a living chinese finger trap.
 seaweed and indiana sawgrass
 pale green things
 pale green things