Wednesday, April 22, 2020

shadows

I wish I had more to say 
about loss and grief, 
that I could convince you 
they didn’t suffer, 
they’re in a better place 
now, that they’re gone 
but not forgotten.  
The photographs 
will never be replaced,  
future plans  
never made, holidays 
and vacations kept 
separate. The children 
will never know each 
other, what those late 
night conversations 
meant to us both, 
what dreams dreamt. 
We may never see 
each other again. 
What would it take 
to move past 
all this waiting, 
what gesture 
would release us? 
I have nothing 
to gift you: 
no flowers, no 
book or poems, 
no letter scrawled 
in broken script, 
a tear-filled hello, 
abject apologies, 
a swift defense, 
repentance real 
or feigned. Weakness 
is my greatest fault. 
Consider this 
a gauntlet thrown.

Tuesday, April 21, 2020

confession

so is this when the new habit begins? 
has something yet changed? 
i keep waiting for a letter in the mail, 
a phone call from a friend, 
emails from relatives, 
anything from my father. 

distances are still distances. 
words remains fragile things. 
i still don’t regret the arguments. 
i regret we never found a conclusion. 

i still have things to say 
but i do not think you will hear them. 
i wish you would hear them. 
i wish there was a way to bring them to you.

Monday, April 20, 2020

hiking

we were hiking down by the river 
and turned left onto a footbridge 

two young women were taking turns 
taking topless photos of each other

they stopped when they saw us 
and quickly took off on their bikes 

when we saw them later on the stairs 
we pretended we didn’t recognize them 

i guess we all have different ways
to capture a moment, or share it

Sunday, April 19, 2020

thomas sunday

I, too, wish to see you for myself. 
Your smiling face. Your hands. Your side. 
I want what all others want. 
I wish I was there to receive the peace, 
and to receive the peace. 
You appear in the midst of us. 
The doors remain closed. 
I keep writing until they are not.

Saturday, April 18, 2020

21 days

i won’t tell you 
it takes 21 days 
to form a new habit. 
it’s simply not true. 
it takes 21 days 
before the phantom 
pain subsides. 

i will tell you instead 
it takes 21 days 
to break a habit, 
to pin it to the wall 
until it stops twitching. 
sometimes 
it’s a slow death. 
sometimes 
it takes much longer. 
one never can tell. 

it might take 21 days 
for you to recognize 
your new face. 
it might take you a lifetime.