Hide and Seek
for my sister, Sue
We played hide and seek
in our house
where all the places to hide
were known. Still
I would slide under the
sewing table, parting its
curtains as if they were
the skirt of a saint. Inside it
was dark like birth.
My heart beat fast. I never
wanted to be found, and I
never wanted to feel, oh
so abject and abandoned again.
Too Much Death
I sit here and someone
places a black spoon
and fork before me.
I will eat the ashes.
I will swallow fear
like a Eucharist.
Too much death today:
in Japan they are asking
people to stay in their homes.
Too much death today,
my father in law, my Uncle
Larry. I will pick up
the black fork and mecha-
nically feed myself the food
necessary to continue.
When the new day dawns
I will believe again in con-
tinuing, or I will not.
More poetry at Used Furniture.
