Last Privacy
By Scott Hightower
Ancient kites, found in deserts
of the Middle East, are constructions
aimed at driving and trapping
game animals. They consist
of long dry stone walls
converging on a neck
which opens into a confined space
used as the killing floor.
The last night, unknowingly
I lovingly effervesced the long catalog
of my admirations for you into
your ear. Hammer strike
anvil. The last morning,
I studied you sitting
quietly studying the water
in the toilet bowl. I brushed
your hair. Gave you a kiss.
Told you, “I love you.” Minutes later,
we walked outside our door the final time,
rode the elevator down together. Crossed
the lobby and vestibule, out the front door
onto the wide sidewalk of our building.
All the while, unaware of the drive.
Your last moments under a bluebird sky.
Your last moment standing
at the end of the fatal kite.
--------
"Loss and grief can be consuming things," Hightower tells Poets.org. "But those who survive loss do not lose their practice."
I had a pretty quiet Tuesday, much of which was spent down the basement taking photos of books for eBay, Facebook Marketplace, and freecycling, which is more fun than it sounds -- I found things I didn't even remember I had, like a big folder of magazines about Princess Diana that had been my Uncle Larry's, which I suspect my neighbor's Anglophile daughter will appreciate more than I ever will -- photos will be fine for me. It was a gorgeous day for a walk, too.
My Tuesday night Voyager group watched "The Killing Game, Part II" which I think is not as tightly written as Part I but is still very enjoyable, then Paul and I watched the rest of the Orioles-Nationals game, since the Os had been losing when I switched it off and were winning when I put it back on. And now I'm watching Buffy because I'm up to "Hush" which is still great. From the falconry show at the Maryland Renaissance Festival, some of the birds of prey:
No comments:
Post a Comment