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Return


...Letters to the dead fall behind headboards
when weeping overcomes us, sweeping,
are lifted free, clearing away pennies and spoons – 
leftover utensils, touchstones for the woman
whose withholding husband can no longer hear her,
sharp pen on parchment.

The cheek, when caressed, remembers shorthand,
            insertion of a comma to catch
            overdue breath. The dead answering
            when we least expect.
Their whispers arrive as instruction –
return to sender – I adore you. We remember

salty, sweet, adhesive stamps against our
rough tongues; with trust,
            we open the metal mouth,
            drop the envelope,
            watch it slip down its dark chute. 

Excerpted from "Return", The Shape of Caught Water
available from Red Mountain Press
or directly from the author (505.670.4327)

http://redmountainpress.us/



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