easter 09

i'm not a big fan of easter.

(inside the now u-shaped vw van i look under the blanket in paul's carrier and see part of the rear signal light)

(waking up on easter morning i learn that my brother is dead)

a celebration of rebirth has been tinged with irony for me for years.

tonight i'll go to the firepit and burn little scraps of paper in a purely symbolic act.

as those embers rise skyward into the night i claim my right for renewal.

b.

rolling

you are
the sand in my oyster
over time
perhaps a pearl
but now

wordless

minds met but hearts not
she leaves

i have no words for this
everything seems so trite and ordinary since

i go through the motions
push the days through

an axis slipped in my tiny world
it all slides

she leaves with a word on her lips
and i have none left