July 01, 2010

Grief is Not Chronologically Correct

by me.

II.
This is what you’re not seeing:

I come home and inhabit windows
facing the northeast because I know
that’s where you’d be if
the divide between us
was less opaque and my eyes
were something better, walking always
and exclusively in the light-flooded
places,
creating rare cracks
in the world where
warmth touches skin and
breathing is a little easier.

The house is cold
in your absence. I stare
through windows with shades
half-drawn, arms
half-wrapped around me
and I try to think
of things I could tell you,
try to imagine your voice
in reply.

V.
You loved the light.
I remember a Thursday
morning, waking up to shadows
you cast on the bed. Facing the
window, back
to me, peering at
cedar trees full of gray jays
chorusing the sun. Your
frame filled it up, and now
I remember the world as an effort
to see around you,
your silhouette filling my vision.

III.
This is what you’re not seeing:

Memories like distant clouds
threatening storms: you stand
on a beach, behind you
the sea-lined horizon of the
5AM sky. You carry
fishing pole, tackle, sandals
you can’t bring yourself
to wear. I know I should
be in this memory,
except you fill it
so completely and warmly.
I like this view of the world
just fine.

We are at the shore
and before you cast off
you take fistfuls of sand
and put them in your pockets.
This, you say, is worth
something, fools the fish.
They’ll come to what they know.
Even in that murky
darkness, there’s always sand
down there, making space
for light, the fish’ll come
to what they know.

Do you know
what a pearl is? his memory
asks me. Sand
surrounding itself in light,
lacquered sand, he
laughs, nothing but
lacquered sand. The fish’ll be drawn
to these kernels of light.

I.
I inhabit windows facing
the northeast because I know
that’s where you’d be, and my
pockets are full of sand, weighting
me to the world
where light still comes
without you.
And thinking of you, I try
to wrap myself in it, become
like these granules of sand
awaiting their pearldom.

1 comment:

Jeff said...

I enjoyed reading this - I look forward to seeing more