In trying so hard
to make you see me, only
walking away worked.
She could always tell when an ending was near –
A faraway train; she would lie on the tracks,
to the rumble
feeling the low vibration
for it to appear
over the hill
and she would wait until the very last minute, and
push herself up
and run, and run
until it was upon her
and then she would dive into the cool grass
listening to the world breaking apart
for the quiet
and get up
and begin again.
Across the bridge,
I bring flowers, and sit on the ground with them
They talk to me without speaking – no judgment, nothing wanting.
I listen, and hear the past, and remember how it was when they were here, and how they helped me just by being here;
I would watch TV with them, and they would argue over who was in what show: “Was that Eddie Albert or Van Johnson?”
They would ask me,”No big plans?”
It was enough.
I sat like that then, and I sit like this now – no big plans, and it is enough.
Good visit, M and D.
The dancer stands silent
in the shadows of the velvet curtain.
Flex relax flex relax –
She is out of her mind
and into her body;
There is nothing now, but the wait…
and then the music, and then,
the strains of the symphony form a sailing ship
to carry her over
the sea of hands,
the waves of applause.