As You Go

Now, In Her Chair She Decides When She Comes And Goes,
Going Back To Recall That Unnaturally Hot Day
In The Middle Of June As The Lack Of Hands In The Milk Parlor
First Hit Her Hard Taking Blood And Breath

This All Before She Wondered Where The Sea And Sky Collide,
Before Grey Eased Across Her Frontier Fence
During The Winter's Nights And Never Lifted With The Mornings
She Took Each Post Slow And Scattered Far
From Where She Had Marked And Placed Them Back In Spring
Wrapping The Wire Around Her Calloused Hands

Until There Were No Need For The Extended Families Names
Or Which Road Leads To Parishes She Had Forgotten
All But A Few Words And Numbers Making Up A Bronx Street
From Which She Awaited Reply To Long Posted Letters

CK