Monday, January 19, 2009

She Returns

She spreads her body down across the sun-dappled grass here
So far away from the cold white marble and the warm summer rain
And from the columns of corn stalks into which she could have disappeared
Her eyes turn now towards the dying sky
Her thoughts turn inwards
The smoke had become a part of her in those long, lonely nights
The drink and the longing bringing tears to her eyes
His hands had held her up and held her back and held her down
Crushing the rosemary to fragrance beneath her willing regret
His laughter was like the hum of the insects
Stirring all around her in that meadow of balsams
But all of it is gone now
Watching a delicate spider climb the worn porch railing
The smell of dusty wooden beams above her in the dark
The feel of the loose stones of that loving path bruising her bare feet
The distant sound of a glass ringing like a bell as it hit the bedside table
The cultivated wilds of this overcrowded patch of green the only respite now
In a world where her body hardly reacts
As a bus passes almost close enough to brush her shoulder
Like the dark water closing over her
After she jumped from the highest rocks
She realizes that proximity is no longer an issue
Without the possibility of his skin