\u2014 ddle of the red hot words
\nthat flared between us that
\nwarm Indian summer afternoon
\nhaunted by the oh-so-thin parchment of
\nmy mother softly twisting deep
\nin the pyramid close by father’s sarcophagus<\/p>\n
I remember the heat and the
\nthought that had invaded me:
\nunlike spring
\nall blues and greens and coming to life \u2014
\nnot the pastel hues of the
\nsterile scrubbed halls
\ndownwhich caught in a dry raspy
\nshallow railing twisted knot
\nI could hardly bring myself to visit
\nmy mother was in freefall \u2014
\nfall is ochres and wine reds
\nand departures and death<\/p>\n
This seemed to be death
\ndeath of romance
\na death replete with kids
\nand arguments over money
\nand war and peace and toothpaste
\nand nickles and dimes and a
\nchipped tooth and socks
\npiled in dusty corners
\nthat were suddenly my turn
\nto vacuum and grow up over
\nand the words were pinching like
\ndeath in a sock: a blister that
\nwas beginning to fester
\nright in the mi \u2014<\/p>\n
\u2014 ddle of that right there
\njust at that precise instant
\nwhile bruised berries were fermenting
\non the soft bed of just slowing
\nblown strumpet flowers and squirrels
\nwere panicking and fretting on thin twigs
\nlecturing each other on the louring skies
\nand watching in paranoid pixillated
\nstop-action
\neverything over their shoulders
\nand birds were rehearsing
\nthe long flights to come
\ngeese serious in high formation
\nravens congregating in swirling
\nshredded pointilistic clouds
\nhigh above the highest trees<\/p>\n
right there in that moment
\njust between you
\nand “you”
\nand a threat
\nof tears \u2014<\/p>\n
A colossal crash<\/p>\n
\u2014 stopped the words
\nstopped my heart \u2014<\/p>\n
I rushed outside
\nyou followed
\nclutching your apron<\/p>\n
I was gnawing on adrenaline
\nthat lept me all five steps
\nonto the front walk<\/p>\n
What is it?<\/p>\n
We looked at the window
\nThere imprinted dead centre
\nin the middle of the tickytacky picture window
\nwas the dust haloed outline of a large bird
\nwings outspread like a paraclete
\nneck turned aside<\/p>\n
holocaust<\/p>\n
Dead in the bushes below
\na pheasant<\/p>\n
drunk on berries
\nthey do that<\/p>\n
Inside the house the phone was ringing<\/p>\n
We looked at each other
\nthe sunlight caught your frazzled hair
\njust golden in the moment
\nSomething flooded into the day
\nthat had not been allowed before<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u2014 ddle of the red hot words that flared between us that warm Indian summer afternoon haunted by the oh-so-thin parchment of my mother softly twisting deep in the pyramid close by father’s sarcophagus I remember the heat and the … Continue reading