widowing

you spun off like a shadow

the indigo gladly lit your small shoulders

you dried like blood, and fell from the vine

like autumn was your friend

but the wind that brought you down

that was your wind

when the wind sucked you down

you sounded like a shadow

a river-merchant, lost at sea

in the widow-maker's navy

when the widow-maker made me

the cats wept from the walls

I didn't touch your things

or sing

more than I had to

I signed so many papers

I signed so many names

you went off to the wilderness

you left it all behind

there's still a patch, in the rye

where your eyes were

there's still a socket

that weeps for what you saw

there's still a valve,

in my heart,

with your blood

and the fog of life

begins where you are

and ends

on the walk

hanging tenuously from our roof

where I am

July 10, 2012

Tucson, Ariz.