What I Wanted To Say
I tried to talk with her last night,
and then again this morning.
My words were weak, ineffectual,
like someone calling out a warning
After the storm has already past.
She knew more about the dangers
than I, but had reached a point
where she simply did not care.
I’ve had a good life, she’d say,
When pressed. I have no regrets.
I’m not afraid, don’t worry. She
liked to watch murder mysteries
because the format guaranteed
that the culprit would be found.
The fun was in trying to guess
who it was. None of the violence
was real. What I wanted to say
was simple enough. It’s essential
to keep moving, if only around
The house, from room to room.
Take another look at the art work
on the walls, or the tiny bottles
on the glass ledge in the window.
Step outside onto the back deck,
And watch the moon in the trees
as it rises for the night. Sometimes
bats swoop low, so quietly,
so darkly, you can barely see them.