Wednesday, July 4, 2012

An Exalted Quiet

                    ((A Tribute to a Mother) (Forty-two days))

She stared at him from the top of the stairway,
       in the center of the arch of the door
Settling into it, with only minor adjustments—,
It was a long stare, as he opened his car door,
       ready to drive out of the garage—:
She looked as if she wanted it to be just right,
       because it was going to there forevermore,
Thereafter. He asked: “Why are you staring?”
“Because I want to…” she said.
He was puzzled: and having said what he said
       did not break her moment; she was
Determined to have it: lest God himself forbid.
He glared at her for a moment longer, her pose
       captive, her eyes old and melancholy,
He smiled, stepped into his car, drove out of
       the garage—that was in the spring of 2003.
Now, he understood why the long stare, and the
       quiet exaltation, about her way…
Time was short: had he known she would die
       in forty-two days, had he really known this
And perhaps she did: he would have sunk
       into some mental darkness, gotten
Physically sick, sooner than later…

#3367 (July, 2, 2012)