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Show me what you’ve learned from sorrow
Oft ic sceolde ana uhtna gehwylce/ mine ceare cwiþan
--The Wanderer
Some days I watch the ants venture
to
and fro
from my living room recliner Other
days I spray them
as they flow from cracks
in the floor and witness
their suffering
their deaths brutal
but also
ordinary
Some nights as dark falls like ragged scraps
of cloth
I listen to my children
recount the words torn from dreamless
sleep so little separates them from suffering—
a sheet
a shadow Can you
relate
It’s already June but the weather is still tuned
to grey mist like a morning ghost
emptinesssothickitpressesinto
Sometimes we keep reading long past
the last line in the last work
because we know there must be more but there is no
measure to this dark and I only believe
in God when writing poems |