Without human words,
Emily appears to be
developing a distance
from the rest of us,
appearing to translate
that distance into meaning
& if she didn’t smile after
that flight of flight, we
would know we held
no weight against her,
we would know how
un-pinned we all are.
[+]
Emily as the Floor Wells
There are times when the soul
of our house appears to yield
to Emily’s height, her lack of it
& I will see her be giant in one
room, only to return to her slight
wave in another. If this house
clings to her needs, then what
place do I have in it? I could
make sure the house is kept
in good order. I could hold it
together and keep it able to raise
Emily up, like a gift that reaches
past the ceiling, into the shallow
firmament of Ohio. Neither of us,
the house or myself, are crazy
about these doors. I have a key,
of course, but we both know
it would never allow us to leave.
[+]
Emily as Grief that is the Universe
I assumed Emily
wanted, would rely
on the all-energy
to build us into a deep
cycle of the physical
love. I was wrong.
I assumed the rest
of you wanted that
for Emily and me.
I’ve assumed the rest
of love would bend
to my own constructs,
the come mostly
from my own world.
[+]
Darren's poems have appeared, or are scheduled to appear in
South Dakota Review, Meridian, The Louisville Review, Grist, and the
Colorado Review. He is the author of "As We Refer To Our Bodies"
(2013, 8th House), "Temporary Champions" (2014, Main Street Rag),
and "Not For Art Nor Prayer" (2015, 8th House). He is also the
Managing Editor of the Best of the Net Anthology. He lives in
Columbus, Ohio with his wife and children.
