Thursday, May 16, 2013
A Pause in Life
(For Darla Dawn Siluk)
My memory thin as a grass-blade, in mist
I can’t remember much, but I do remember this:
She was laid down upon the sofa
No bigger than a small pumpkin—
There I sat beside her like a white wall…
Silent, we were both lost in silence, I hunched down
Thinking of this infant, but a few months old
(waves rushed up into me, then a pause—I was young
so very young, didn’t know what to do):
It had not yet come to surface that I had a child,
Yet somewhere down there, below the chest, I knew!
She who couldn’t yet look out over her life:
No map; senses in her eyes knew what I knew,
The crashing down of abandonment soon!
She was at the end of the galaxy, just waiting!
Yet I had love for this child who somehow floated inside of me!
Who was but a few months earlier, inside the womb of another!
Yet I knew, she knew, the breaking roaring of abandonment—
Was soon to come, I could feel it too…!