from
"December Songs"
You get messy. And tangled in colored light. The
house was bigger in your
memory. Felt. Like a steak house. Thrones around the table. Forks and
candles long as your arm. An elm. Your father's guitar. Silence. Fresh
snow of doilies. Your mother beautiful and full of holes. Your mother
the comb. The seer. Rest. The phone rings here. There are things to be
said. Like hold on he's in the basement. And. The girls arrive
tomorrow. And. Yes. The recovery. Haven't you heard. Our friend in the
hospital hit by a car. Recognizes me. Silence. Swirls her good eye.