a frozen luster covers the trees
a glacial gloss tinged with blue
her gaze icier than this landscape
darker than the midnight sky
the wind chills with killing sharpness
linger too long, and you will die
so too said her expression
I left a trail of glittering tears
for no one as I walked away
and you think that you own us
because of some imaginary line
drawn in bloody ink on a bloody map
our bodies used for witness posts
and you want all to be a mirror
that reflects back only your glittering lies
the best the powerful the beautiful
most importantly the always white
you are reeling drunk right now
on delusions of fear masked by arrogant pride
and soon will fall to the ground
cut by the fragments of your self-regard
because we are not you, one of us will come
to bandage your wounds and lift you up
then take you to some hidden place
where you can live your remaining years
alone with only time to fill
that space where the rest of us keep our hearts
blue petals the color of loving eyes
holes half-full of red gumbo clay
scattered notes from a cello sonata
throaty croaks from long-vanished bull frogs
muddy drops from the mountain creek
cracked remnants of forgotten dreams
hollow vase for hollow wishes
a clock that noisily warns of the end
one plank only and it’s getting full
tip all to the bin and walk away
room for someone else now
wind with hint of tears
cutting through the alleyway
your smile near my heart
there among the stinking ruins
in fallen ash and drifting flame
you search for something lost
around you the Erinyes flicker in the air
hair like tangled wisps of smoke
their snakes’ hiss joining that of the fire
each grim visage darker than char
look up look up before too late
but it is too late, your thread already cut
not just cut, it burns it burns
you failed to pay attention
sky lowering with cold bruised clouds
air heavy with all the dread we carry
the uncertainty in which we live everyday
extreme storms unpredictable events
the niggling doubt remains
that someone somewhere once knew could know
does know more than we about their course
now we are no longer privy to such things
another loss of a public service a common good
there’s an app for this coming soon
but only if you pay
looking for that one lost glove that missing sock
that fork that disappeared last week
I opened the drawer in the cabinet
no not that one it holds all the random letters
addressed to previous occupants
kept in case they one day knock on the door
you never know that car warranty could be important
the other one the one that contains all the odd items
from all the years that have ever gone astray
can openers number one pencils even a few yellowed baby teeth
not mine but from some child who lived here before
who knows when but they might want them
just joking about all of this none of the above is true
maybe could be I don’t know
because I remember her hoeing the garden
alone in her eighties in her small wood-framed house
how she left that behind to accompany her sister
who was my great grandmother in her dying days
and the kindness in her faded gray eyes
as she wrapped her wrinkled hands around mine
and told me she too would follow soon
with this sort of history woven into my bones
fierce love that disregards common norms
but pursues a deeper decency instead
I cannot be afraid
she went beyond again and again
showed me how this can be done
one gentle implacable step after another
the question that I posed once long ago
what sky do you see and how do you know
stays with me still after all these years
he did not dismiss it not even then
sat down beside me and aimed his gaze with mine
so that we both looked upwards
Into the endless shimmer of a hot afternoon
the horizon melting into forever
time itself turned liquid by the burning sun
our shared silence hung heavy in the air
not rent even by a mosquito’s buzz
we shrugged and went inside for a cold drink
unwilling to climb such a high brick wall
in the humid weather of a Mississippi summer
we did not say goodbye
did not know this time to be the last
so we did not linger over tea
pausing between each sip
to look over the cup at each other
we did not let our hands clasp
even briefly as to register dear kinship
a touch of thanks for time spent deeply
a felt recognition of common ground
in the end this does not matter
the moments themselves have passed beyond
their taste their flavor their faint perfume
remain and I am grateful
