divets

My wife and I
have two cats
Callie, who eats herself sick
and Lucy, the runt of the litter Callie had
we assume.
Lucy came to us
barely a year old
small
but not feeble
black
with eyes that reveal
a soul that knows more than it lets on
a heart that has been broken
she understands
she has seen things
she won't tell us what they are
but she quickly grows tired
and skittish of the love and affection
we all know she so desperately wants.
Because she never grew to the size of a full cat
she can't groom herself properly
and she hates being brushed
so we have mastered
the art of holding her down with one hand
and cutting the sticky, thick mats of fur
behind her head
between her shoulder blades
while she screams
she dislikes being held in any way
she screams
as if we are trying to kill her
she doesn't seem to understand,
as we do
it's for her own good.

Six

rolling in the grass
the sun on my face
turning my skin a creamy
warm tan
years before it learned to burn
and my hair
brown all year in school
was a bright auburn in summer
the year my teeth were too big
for my mouth
so I grew it
and filled it with noise
the year I learned
volume can drown out fear
make no one see it
when they turn away from you
call you too excitable
too much
"enough already"

Six
when I fell in love with Gilbert Blythe
and was still afraid
of the Chariots of Fire theme song

Six

30 years ago
and another.

I didn't protect you.

I'm sorry.

things that Karen tells me

it is what it is
that's the god's honest truth
but it isn't unimportant
as that phrase
"it is what it is"
would lead you to believe
"Oh no, my dear. This was a big deal."
this is a big deal
that's what it is
and
like they say
it is what it is.

15

I remember you, Claudia.
Fifteen years after you gave me advice
I didn't understand.
And just as suddenly as you were gone
your words are clear
and they fit.
I remember.
How I wish I could tell you.

Border

They're children.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised
by the callousness
and the lies.
I shouldn't expect anything else
from the men who bowed their heads
for twenty children
gunned down in their classroom
and then bowed out of the conversation.

But again
I say to you
they are children.

They are children
and they are calling for their mothers
they are crying for their mothers.
Jesus Christ, just let them stay with their mothers.

They are children.

Luke

I stayed home
To keep myself from crying
For a man
I'd only known as a boy
With dancing eyes
And a face that smiled
Without stimulus.

I stayed home
To keep myself from seeing
His mother
A woman of faith and music
Laughter and compassion
Suddenly gray and sullen
Mired and muted
Leaden.

I stayed home
Was not in the line
Blocks long
And hours deep
I had already made that walk
To badly comfort a mother
Who suddenly had one fewer son
Than that with which she had started the week.

I stayed home
Because I was depleted
And tired of death.

I was tired
And could do nothing.

I stayed home.

Queen/Church

I met a boy the other day
he had your son's name
and was turning ten
as your son would have
should have
could have
but for bullets.

And I have thought about you
ever since that day
and I wonder
if I really did pass you in traffic
miss you by seconds
at the coffee shop.
Do you even still come here?
Or it is too painful now?

Do you know I wrote you?
Does it matter?
I should resign myself
just admit that I won't see you again
but for pictures
a lifetime of close calls
and missed connections.
It's what so many of us have to do now.

Isn't it?

The Wheel

I've never been entirely sure
why certain things bother me more than others
on certain days
when the air is just right
and the sun comes in the window
and paints shadows on the floor,
why lonely is so easy to know
but impossible to describe
or understand
and escape.

I can't explain why
her face is still so present in my mind
as if she was ever more than an acquaintance
a friend
a co-worker for a summer
then off doing whatever she was doing
that widened the divide
between us
and I sound like a school girl
with a crush
and that's not what this is
not at all
and no, I'm not trying to convince myself
because I have long since learned the difference
between infatuation and admiration
admiration and love
one can lead to another
and another
but the same thing, they are not.

I just wanted ...

I can't really know for sure.

But not what you're thinking.

Letter I'll never send

Gravitas

17 years
and 1 day ago,
it was warm that day,
and then breeze was cool
it pushed us forward
guided us on
to the place
most of us had never been
and I have only seen once since,
up the hill
where the grass was lush and green
and my toes slid forward in my shoes
pinched together,
and the skirt my mother picked for me
made me look 16
and 60
simultaneously
and I stood with the others
red-nosed, puffy eyed
strangers
Uncle so and so
Aunt what's her name
Vicky, the bitch
and we waited for him to stop speaking
his words barely registering
white, holy noise.
Then he was silent
and we were silent
and all was silent except for the birds.
And we left you there.