"100 Words After the Family of You"
100 Words After the Family of You
for A.A.
Grief makes a family. Every
death takes us further from
ourselves, out where the dust
forms into galaxies, matrices of
trust—the threads we tuck
under time, the taking time
to tuck or cover. My
time with you: an embroidered
shawl, a magnifying glass, a
glass of water. Too brief.
So long. Old friend. Amigo
del camino del sól. Critic
to the end. Suavecito muy
lindo. El sueño de mí,
sígue. Criticando. Signifying. Clarifying. Refining.
My life is half-empty
without you—music without the
chair, plate missing the meal,
this family of you without
you grieving songs of you.
7/7/08
Lorna Dee Cervantes
for A.A.
Grief makes a family. Every
death takes us further from
ourselves, out where the dust
forms into galaxies, matrices of
trust—the threads we tuck
under time, the taking time
to tuck or cover. My
time with you: an embroidered
shawl, a magnifying glass, a
glass of water. Too brief.
So long. Old friend. Amigo
del camino del sól. Critic
to the end. Suavecito muy
lindo. El sueño de mí,
sígue. Criticando. Signifying. Clarifying. Refining.
My life is half-empty
without you—music without the
chair, plate missing the meal,
this family of you without
you grieving songs of you.
7/7/08
Lorna Dee Cervantes
Labels: Alfred Arteaga, Lorna Dee Cervantes, poem, Poetry
posted by Lorna Dee Cervantes at 10:01 AM
2 Comments:
the ideas here jump so fast. like a book fliped through in a second with your thumb. offering glances but not pictures.
Lorna Dee, as always, stunningly beautiful.
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