My Life Is Not As I Expected
I arrived late at the altar of marriage,
long past my fertility use-by date,
On our family tree
my line ends abruptly.
Unable to seed the future,
I mine the past
dig deeply,
into veins of familial misfortune
bear witness to stories,
long suppressed
behind sugar-starched, lace curtains.
My revelations inspire fear
in those who hide the truth
behind forced smiles.
Or seal their lips
with fermented libations.
They would have me write fiction
cloak history in gossamer,
present images that
bear no resemblance
to those whose genes we share.
They whisper that I,
childless, unfettered
free of impressionable children,
have abandoned self-control
in favor of self-indulgence.
Perhaps they are right,
for I disdain high pedestals
that require vigilant balance.
Instead, I tread the fallow fields
and spread the stories
of lives lived when life
had to be raked from barren soil.
My written words
shall carry forward our history,
that it may be uttered
by the young who follow me.
Unlike those before us
who discovered truths
and tried to express them
in a time and place
where their voices could not rise
above a whisper,
this next generation will be armed
with knowledge of the past
And able to build a life
On the pedestals of truth.
I send this gift into the future
It will be my offering
from beyond the grave.
* * * * * * * * *
Final Goodbyes
This time, I part the iron gates alone,
Lilies heavy in the cradle of my arms.
20 years ago,
I was one of four grieving girls
Brought here to bid farewell
To the portal
Through which we each had passed.
A year later, we came back
And lowered the shell
Of the father we never know
Into the waiting arms
Of the wife
Who cherished his name
Long after he'd left her.
"Together in death,"
My sister said,
As if that made everything
Alright . . .
Washed away the years
Of longing,
Stilled my anger.
Did I alone recall summer evenings
When, shielded by darkness,
My mother voiced regrets?
While I nursed secret dreams
That he'd come home cleansed,
Make us whole again,
Banish the shame we felt?
But he never did. Tired of waiting,
I set off to find solace for my pain.
Still I search.
Angelic statues
Gaze across the grassy knolls.
Bronze markers hug the earth,
Sometimes inverted
To reveal vases
Filled with new blooms.
Gifts, outside death's doorway.
As I search
The manicured glade
I wish for a North Star
To guide me to my family's plot.
Is this a pathway?
Or do I tread upon
Someone's unmarked bones?
Why does this familiar place
Yield no names like mine?
Have the givers of my life moved?
Should I drop my pain here
To seep into the earth?
The sky grows dim.
I must go where I am expected.
I set the lilies upon a just-filled grave,
Whisper farewell.
to its unnamed occupant.
The wind, caressing my face,
Bids me farewell in return.
I close the gates
And walk away.
* * * * * * * * *