“Meltdown” Shadows in the snow speak their truth to the inlets forming from their tears. “During a Wintry Thaw, 2021” A crow lights upon A tree, wings gathering wind. A new horizon. “A Fragment Written in Gloaming” ...We don't have to do anything. We can just lie here touching hands watching the light slide up our bodies and illuminating the expanse of our scars. You can call to me, and I'll respond with words smooth, unbarbed. I can call to you, and you'll respond with sighing, language beyond words. We can imagine this scene together, build a dream through cooperative musing. We can still the frantic electric hum above our heads, turn off the day, turn on the night. We can glow despite the shadows, the darkness forming like a glacier outside our window. We can speak. We can remain silent. We can be still enough to listen to our breathing, the insistent whispers our bodies make to remind us we're alive...
The window paints a cross along my face marking me with the day's dying light. My hands search the old picture frames for dust, remnants of the long forgotten. My grandparents stare up at me, their smiles framed and yellow. I step away from the window. I wander down the steps, the photos cradled in my arms. Inside my Nissan, a box filled with memorabilia, heirlooms. I place the pictures on top of everything else careful not to smash, break. I start the engine and pull away. The house in my rear view mirror-- awash in shadows. I face ahead, the streets deserted and gray.
I. I've birded through life, unable to become a fixture in somebody else's house. I've twittered among the raindrops, took inventory of their sadness. I've careened north and south, west where the dying sun gives birth to night, that cornucopia of stars. I've circled around stopping only to snatch the eastern wind. My body has grown sleek in its ability to repel clouds. My life up to this point: a progression towards a clearing marked by the feathers of another. II. I wait for you beneath a sky crowing with life. You emerge from dawn crowned in soft soft light, unable to dim your presence. My plumage gleams in the glow of your affection.
This haiku is beautiful! It captures the good cat life you gave to Mercedes. Cathy Stuckart
ReplyDeleteThanks, Cathy!
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