loss hovers here--already a ghost/
formless the way these ghosts are
one hand on my chest, squeezing/
another hand signing what shape
it may take, /how it may unmake
--with a ghost laugh so loud, /I cry
"remember!" I want to say; /I ask--
"remember?" there's a way home
crawling amphibian up my spine
but I'm still waiting/ to be found
my arms outstretched--embracing
/unarmed and ready for the rack
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Pic: A hawk (?) by the Red Cedar, spied on my walk with Big A today.
There was the body of a dead squirrel in the hawk's talons. (Big A kept asking me not to look at the bird and not to go closer. We both agree I tend to be much braver/foolhardier than he is.)
I'm also thinking about bodies and how they can be--or seen as--just one thing or another (/) because of what our poor little Nu said at the pediatrician this morning, and because that child, Brendan Santo, was found recently.
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