Month: September 2021
In the Shadow of the Ruined Family
Maybe I was Lonelier
Devotion to the Only Syllable
Before and After the Wedding
Where there is frost there are geese. A last cup of coffee, a last goodbye. At night I hear the river in the distance, and know I am hearing the end of song that will be hard to recollect in the future. Potato digger, pothole misser. It’s like we’re travelers or else were raised by travelers. For her birthday this year she has asked to spend the day at Upper Highland Lake in Goshen where we used to camp right before and after the wedding, happily hiking through forest and alongside the water, our joy reliable and merited. Stolen hours of sleep crystallizing into something nonresistant and translucent, which for too long I have denigrated as “soft.” We write poems so the tag sales won’t be forgotten, which is really to say that we love everything and don’t want any of it to die (i.e., being forgotten is all death actually is). Life saver, loss mitigator? Love letters parting lips to whisper yes come. There are pumpkins in the tall grass beside the garden transforming light into something so beautiful I forget to breathe before it. Forget to pretend breathing is what matters most? I mean really, what are we so scared of in the end? That altar inside us all along and all the light.
Snow is Finished Falling
When Love is No Longer Consonant with Beauty
The One You Want in Bed
A Little Like After it Rains
At dawn there are strange feathers in the sky, enormous folds and ripples of light, as if to say the day of death were greater than the day of being born. And my heart opens, and the leaves fall and spiral into the opening in my heart, and compost there, and become vast forests there, full of bears and rivers and dragonflies. Kisses that taste a little like after it rains. We count the pieces before giving away the puzzle, but we do not make it. Fair season ends, ribbons go up on walls, and plans begin for the season to come, as if the world were one in which planning was actually allowed. One grows tired of negotiating with biblical scholars for the peace they feel reading certain scriptures certain ways. Early September mowing, soaked through with sweat, kneeling after to ask forgiveness for the crickets and toads who died in the whirring blades. Dialogue hastens to its end naturally. All this decoration, all this studied emphasis on blindness, and for what?