Saskia Hamilton


She undertook to collect his bones and carry them in such a way
that they might become reanimated. Discussions with the children
about the first doctor and the last,
the vitamins and alternative medicines, about the one
visit when he came and someone opened the cellar door
and someone else complained that he'd cleaned everything
and when she crouched down to pick them up again she
could not hold them in her arms, so she fetched a box
made from wood he had split last winter, or wanted
to split but didn't, it doesn't matter, the idea was to carry them
in such a way that they might be reanimated but who
could tell her if she had made a mistake. Were the Christ
collected and enchanted back, or Eurydice following, or the man's
wife and children reassembling in the first tale told by the one traveling
from Greenland, perhaps at last you would know.
The centipede distracts you. You sink,
the insects dig down, the mole digs forward.

The Labyrinth Suggests a Center


© 2002 Electronic Poetry Review