A Woman of Calmness
She walks beside me, patient and kind
She is a healer, a woman of calmness
I am a predator, seeking the kind ones
destroying them gives mute pleasure
I sleep at night, while she writes love letters
letters that she has only email addresses for
she lies down when morning comes and rests
hoping the day will be calmer than yesterday
Once she looked upon her wedding cake
it was split open in two pieces, one gave a list
of the things I had to offer, the other had a
list of the things she needed. They didn't match.
She took that knowledge with grief, but she
remembered it and adjusted her life to it.
I don't know what to do with her. It's too
late to return her. She's grown roots inside me.
Once when there was nothing but silence
she bought a plastic monkey, because she
enjoyed their antics. She carried it around
like a baby and talked to it. It rode with her.
I told her she looked like a fool but she was
silent about it, for her the thing became real.
When it was missing, she knew I had killed it.
Later, she bought a plastic baby and I let it live.
On a trip to the mountains in Tennessee, I was
miserable. I don't know why, but the peace was
not what I wanted. At dinner, I told her and our
three children how unhappy I was to be there.
All of them looked at me and were silent,
not knowing how to make me happy.
That burden still rides their shoulders
and I see the questions in sad eyes.
I finally see her dying in front of me
and know at last that isn't what I want.
I hand her the plastic baby to rock,
kiss her, but she turns her head away.
She lives in silence, bowed with grief
grief that took root and thrived on pain
Such a beautiful woman, gone into lost
where there is no window for found.
I am still a predator. I walk alone as people
have found me out and have walked away.
Look for me under the old tree, sitting alone
waiting for my mind to find all that I missed.
sylvia sammons spivey
June 27, 2007
for posting Sylvia.
