It’s best to be alone when you think on
Your dead you can’t foresee when the moment
Will or will not push tears to the surface
At church I hide in the left transept where
Jocularly if I fall asleep my
Head will come to rest on one wall or the
Other of the corner the pulpit sees
So far they haven’t the temerity
To call my name since none but my pew pals
Would know my offense hymns will do me in
If I’ve missed a med or the weather’s such
To spur a memory of warmth or hurt
Like wind’s breath in the trees rain on the path
Dust dry leaves rustling in the forest where
We in silence walked hand in hand bound so
Comfortably together sniffling dopes
Too happy just to smile had to kiss
Wet cheeks hungry lips leaning against the
Trees each clearing as the dark brought stars out
Raising ephemeral to eternal
Linking all such moments an unbroken
Sacred past that can be recalled to life
If you can stand the strain lose touch
With the present to see how far memory
Proceeds to see in a way to hear in a way
Better than any dream to realize her walk
Her scent her voice by now the waterworks
Has given you away brings you back to
Church to the movie to the highway who
Knows how loudly you sobbed how far
From the center you strayed can’t have
Been too bad no horns sirens no rasp
Of tommy bumps they’re not looking
In your direction they may not have
Noticed anything you hope but at the
Intersection the woman in the car
On your left has seen something she
Talks to the driver looks at you furtively
To see if there’s anyone else in the car
Out of the corner of your watered eye
You sense some concern oh God lady
Don’t roll the window down and ask
If you could be any help I couldn’t
Take that light changes they turn left
Suck it up go on it’s a lonely rural
Road to my sister’s I’ll be fine in a
Few minutes I might be dry with red
Eyes and a wet nose blame allergies
The all purpose dodge just don’t
Keep playing there’ll be laughter even
After you’re gone* by Iris Dement the
Song that always rips your heart out
Then gives it back again like a round
Trip to griefland I tried to avoid
Such moments during my second
Marriage kept bottled up lest
Any loyalty of tears be seen as a
Disloyalty of love but the day she
Told a friend so contemptuously
Sonnets those are his dead wife poems
I felt freed to grieve again
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