Just past mothballs
Sunshine and garbage
Where I am
The clanking of Mali covering up the dragging sound
Plastic cans
Their contents being transported
I've seen where it goes around here
I've seen it all piled up
That scent
More like field mouse and molasses
When I took what I couldn't ever give back
I think I swore on anything
That the unification of two
Into one
Would be real and forever
The right thing
Completing anything that might be tattered
Finishing that stitch
Cording the edge
When the tornado came
I was even less prepared
Having sewn together my own socks
Just to make sure I knew where they were
Where they were kept
In a basket
Next to a small caliber handgun
The bullets and clip somewhere in the bottom of a closet
To insure that act would remain unsewn
But that time
At the time of the tornado
All directions unknown
Just swirling
Now my fingers smell of the greenest stem
Having twisted it until it came loose
So green and bitter
Matching up with baby's breath
And lilac
And lavender
Not the strong scents one might use to cover the stink of death
No flower alive or dry
Can mask what we did
The things that go forgotten
The things that don't matter now
Now that you've become your father
And I mine
Cutting off that mane
Burning it
That smell
Carried off by the great winds
Smashing in garbage cans and flipping light duty trucks
Filling large halls with muskrat and burnt cane
--
10.19.09
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