I. after the operation

every detail sharp

& familiar

dreams curving the rings of previous risings dusk leaks between

what used to be 

good days 

your eyes will get used to the gloom

so

drink in this air

mellowed 

over the years

take it as an omen

pray & 

shake that sense of summer

try to

drown the something in the air

now 

drink 

the rich honey of your old house 

endure its ant hills &

ignore the morning birds 

chirping still

somehow 

this late in august 

drink the keen air

gray lake 

green sky

& all those weedlike trees

let yourself ache 

in this old loved place 

step up the early staircase 

of being

 weep in its changelessness &

  watch your nostalgic sun

shine 

please 

open your eyes 

II. how was it?

“Beautiful and quiet. Good earthy smells. It hasn’t  

changed.”

feel any absences?

“Almost. But really, she’s still there. She’s still

/ saintly / self-pitying / withdrawn from / human heat &

hurt / she could fool people with her / cold / immortal

hands / she kept them / troubled with her / folding /

unfolding / refolding / nobody could help but / drink in that

/ fragile elegance / i still dream about her / i wake up

dreaming about her / it’s natural / enough / early on / you

learn to keep quiet / there’s something / about the way

fawns lie / unmoving / camouflaged & scentless / where

their mothers leave them / one more time / tuck her in / let

me kiss her / smile & sleep / hear what lies / beyond the

birdsong

III. taste this early sting of 

smoke on the air

spongy past path

meet the sky

the big blue bowl of it 

pale & spotless

ignore the shy small rustling things 

dip your hands in the ferns 

stomp

along the foot of the hill 

swampy with wickets 

wet off the woods 

spotted orange 

miniature forests 

mouse & hare country

try out a song 

even if it’s half forgotten 

take the path you best remember 

there it was &

there it is 

you know these steps

more than you know yourself

when you reach the top

see

if you can get a catch of the whole sky

don’t close your eyes until the image quivers 

don’t unfold 

refold 

your hands 

until the rainbow goes out 

IV. do you really think time 

is bent on forgiving? 

“God, just / look at her & / keep looking / she’s

sleeping / even though it’s august / she saves her strength

for the things that matter / she wants it like old times / i’m

tired / of hearing about the lord / shaping the back to the

burden / who said that? / baby / i can’t help the dreaming  

when can i weep?

“Well, is there any other way to / reject the mourning?

/ this morning / i forgot again & / it felt like it used to / the

hill is kinder than the house / everything in there is stained /

with her / drenched in danger / you remember: / washed

covers / fruit & tea / straighten her out / peel & pour / drink

deep / unfold / the sheets / knock twice against the

headboard to break her / breathing / i’m wrecked by the

bare walls & / the naked blue blinds / sunlight won’t stop /

leaking in / it’s better this way / if you say so