Long Night of the Incomplete
In the brief light of the solstice
the wall of ice presses in, inex-
orable glacier, glinting cliffs
casting long blue shadows.
The birds are avid at the feeders.
The squirrels jostle them.
A coyote lurked at the foot
of the drive last night, then
turned smoke. I try to coax
the cats in before dusk
threatens. Wind whooshes
in the chimney. Flesh
does not flourish in such cold.
The death of my mother:
a tooth extracted years ago
yet the tongue still probes.
We fence, we fight, we pry,
we protect armored like goalies,
we lie, we promise, we fudge,
we are bribed and coerced.
Then one night it stops -
the worn out clock of the heart.
A silence parched and rusty,
a silence hollow and gnarled,
metallic, rasps on the mind.
The words that never got spoken,
unasked questions rattle, useless
beads of a broken necklace.
It does not come to an end,
this long night of regrets,
this unfinished conversation
dying in the throat like the year.
from {Tribes Issue 10}