March 5, 2017Pause
Soon enough you grow tired of it—
the clamoring
gale force wind of loss,
the things that make you angry,
and the anger itself.
To sit in stillness for a morning, then.
Rain tapping on the window,
tea gone cold, leaving
a ring on the sill,
in your hand,
that tattered volume
on 19th century American furnishing
extracted on a whim from
the dollar cart,
just to read about Mary Todd Lincoln
in her favorite chair,
as she looked out the window,
remembering how he was holding her hand
when the bullet came.
from Poets Respond