Sunday, July 27, 2008

Love Song 3

Here's a poem of mine published in Spring 2008 in Nimrod.

Love Song #3

You’re the one I want to coach me into death,
to perch your fingers over mine
as if we were sparrows or eggs nesting,
to keep those who pray and those who weep at bay,
away from our last bedding,
to breathe with me the breath
that rattles like a snake in my throat,
to remind me not to cling.
You’re the one I trust to speak the last words I will hear,
never goodbye – but other
words that wing in the half-light to my ear,
words that say this death is my possession, a treasure,
that you will be all right,
that you will help my children.
You may howl if you wish,
a howl to remind me to return as Buddha’s dog,
a howl from your chest expanding as mine falls.

You’re the one I want to smooth the blanket over my still ribs,
a blanket that will continue to rise and fall in your imagination.
You can let the others in now,
let them comfort you, you comfort them.


Elizabeth said...

Wow, Mary, that's really beautiful -- haunting yet hopeful.

Mary Carol Moran said...

Thanks, Elizabeth. Waking up to find someone has read my poem fuels me. It's all about connecting.