Wendy Taylor Carlise
The Short Form
Love in its shortest form becomes a word. -Anne Beattie
Suppose you remember them with bonfires, with rosaries
made of wooden-looking beads, with underlined philosophy
books and scratched 45 RPMs. Suppose
you replay their touch, the linen-covered table, what was
said there. Will the dead be less dead?
Will they say what stood behind them at the end?
What I want now is the small prayer of his answer,
a song in the greenhouse, his conversation in the Plymouth.
I jog after the rain, my socks as wet as his were when he waded
through the oily ditches while the skies flared.
There. and There. I murmur.
But there is no way to utter one word to a dead man
you didn?t say to him alive. You can only release his things?
a lamp, the blue chair, his bed where I wake and sleep and wake again.
Wendy Taylor Carlisle lives in East Texas, land of Budweiser &
Her first book, Reading Berryman to the Dog was published in 2000 by