Aught, no. 15 (2006)
linger
I
the complexity
of wisdom
is power enough.
i will not
linger, will not
linger on the death.
she was
in her head
a long time,
& then
wasnt. took out
brain cells & the
bodys ruin, wearing
down & gone
away. like bedsheets
in the will, or
crouched in the tub, i
will not.
II
the silent message
of private conversations
allude, & keep on
years after the bodys
wake, give out
increments of need
& hearts desire, creeping
out of hindsight
& family photos. gives him
a flower pot, gives her
the war medals gained
from someone older,
whats left of her eighty-seven
down to this,
in boxes, wood
& cardboard.
III
w/ even greater power
to disturb & amaze,
what lies, the shape
of my uncles jaw, or
grandmothers cheekbone, to
her daughter, deflecting
wind. twelve hands
allude to measures
more than painkillers, sleepless
wedge, lift out
of the casket, & go
ground. let out
& exhale
grief, like a
balloon, shove out
invisible to the air
& migrates, little bits
thru grandchildren, great.
IV
the death of nature
sits, in the
reflective voice, echoes
& then lingers,
still. white sand ripples
in the waters point
& slows, settle
bottom down, become
where once
were separate, the grief
& then the death
of grief, a
page, former, turning, like
dropping names
are droppt.