I turn away from you all
curl upon myself like a leaf
that folds when consumed by fire
I watch myself burn
icy flames reducing everything to cinders
tears do no good so laugh instead
bitterness mixing with acceptance
I wonder with detached interest
where I will go when I arise
empty and empty-handed
dirty with ashy gray smears
snow arrives in the morning
quieting the landscape with a monotonous sigh
the hush unbroken even by raucous black crows
winter’s offering given without expectation
a brief pause in time and space
for whatever asks to be held close or let go
opportunity so take it
let what needs settle into fallow ground
pass upwards into scudding clouds
grief joy tears laughter all equal
this season I bury unforeseen woes in the hard frozen dirt
send unexpected happiness to spread with the icy flakes
wrap kindness found in common encounters
around me as a blanket
warm in the mournful hours of night
did he stand there before that day that hour that minute that moment
wondering what the impact would bring other than an end
was it an opportunity seized without forethought
the result of some altered state overlaid upon longstanding suffering
however he came to this act it was final
the stop to all that had come before and one that had no backing out
death by train is not even a gamble
but a surety as certain as any high jump
its whistle blast a warning this is no playtime nor rehearsal
serving also for him afterwards a long lonely sound of mourning
the only cry of recognition the only cry of grief he received
unexpected kindness brings sudden tears
in the winter blamed on the wind’s cold bite
the warmth from chance encounters
sustains through the hours of bitter grief
sly common meanness stings the eyes
this gets passed as lingering illness
the chill at each foul brush
reinforces the awareness of good
the necessity of being able to discern the difference
the determination as to which to bring
I will be sifting through lentils for stones
letting them run between my fingers
then just as casually I drift away, gone
I will be walking across the neighboring field
stopping with interest to observe a fiery leaf
then without warning crumple myself, stilled
I will be sitting in some hard plastic chair
waiting to be seen in a nondescript room
then silently take one last labored breath, no more
no loud and wild passage
a quiet step beyond
unremarkable and unremarked
unnoticed except by a few
once I caught stars like fireflies
held them close to my beating heart
released them back into the night
to shine as distant guides
now I would throw my heart to them
but it is a cold still thing
Incapable even of reflecting light
a heavy weight bound by grief
filled with tears too hard to cry
foolish foolish me, how did I presume
I know the bridge is damaged
know the poor repair
see the holes between the planks
nothing but dead air
what am I supposed to do
the only way across
turn back now or take the chance
this the coin toss
so I keep walking I keep walking
I keep walking I keep walking
I feel the boards tremble
with every step I take
the piling seems to crumble
beneath my slight weight
what am I supposed to do
I am here this day
no turning back, I’d flipped the dime
it tumbles still in play
so I keep walking I keep walking
I keep walking I keep walking
if I reach the other side
I will not look back
got no way to stop collapse
ruin into wrack
what am I supposed to do
I’m no different from you or you
gamblers all, at least I know
the bet itself is rigged-and it means nothing
so I keep walking I keep walking
I keep walking I keep walking
I eat but do not care, another act observed
another memory so leached of life
that the mere contemplation dries my mouth
and I half expect to see
carrion beetles scurry around the meal
let them feed on what remains
scraps and dregs of misguided judgements
and once their offspring hunger in turn
my flesh my bones my bitter dreams
no covered mirrors, for she did not die
still she is torn from me, a kind of death
these will be my seven days
cover the windows, lock the doors
turn off the lights
when I sit upon the lowest seat
darkness and silence settle beside me
companions without judgment or demand
yisgadal v’yiskadash sh’mei raba
words arising without ask
a shawl of comfort connecting me to ancient home
I weep and am comforted
nighttime is falling and winter is here
trees are all barren and hillsides are sere
a hard snow is coming and the wind cuts through
I cannot reach for her, she’s gone from me now
it is what it is
Main Street is empty and restaurants have closed
a predacious hawk has silenced the crows
the train sounds a blast as it rushes through town
it is what it is
it is what it is
that’s what we all say
it is what it is
the response of the day
it is what it is
we shrug and go on
in truth it says nothing at all
