30 years ago, you’d call me
& I’d hold the phone
away, turn pale & tremble––
I didn’t know
I didn’t know you
then.
20 years past–– I returned
from far, to tend
your ailing heart––
I found you drowning in
cigarette butts, beer
cans & the smell of sadness.
what could i do for you?
i didn’t know.
when your husband
broke your wrists––
first one, then the other––
you whimpered in rage to curse
the man who hurt you.
i let you keep your
anger & your pain
too shocked to tell you
anything you didn’t want
to know.
now you are sighing
like a dying child &
i hear you from
my deepest wound.
¶
in this quiet time, when the wind
is still, while the leaves wait
like shadows in the trees & before
the darkness––
God teach us to savor
the irreplaceable sweetness
of your pain
a shy girl on two-wheeled
roller skates
too excited about life
to cry.