Nick

Now

The year ended with Silverberg
Dying Inside,
and a vision of a different, yet same,
Pearl Harbor.

She said yes,
Yes, perhaps you are right
For a change
But nothing appeared.

And in my sleep I remember
sliding back and reaching
for a primordial something
but found only darkness and
the cat.

Perhaps I thought.
Perhaps I dreamed
about slipping out, about slipping out
silver framed photos of father, brother, sister.

My missing stand silent
what do they think as they watch
inscrutably together
Now?

For a while, we talked about being together.
But we fought with bitter words
and harsh gestures and we circled about
confused about oh what could have been
what should have been and now.
We finally decided to separate.

Arthritic clocks melt and
fall on priceless silk tapestries
while the cat watches,
silently enraged.

The world is wrong, yet I live knowing
that brothers carry brothers, no matter
how much newspapers cost.

copyright 2002 RSD