Posture

Posture

Long enough ago it was so long ago

I can’t remember but it was

it was long, long ago.  I say it

with my face turned away in shame,

maybe because I know my place

I’ve always known my place

and I’ll admit now that I’ve lost

my way.  The last time wasn’t

marked as the last time how

grief of what’s to come to an end

makes every sense bloom

out and take in as much for memory

as it can stack for winter like last fall’s

canned goods because you know

in  your marrow you’ll never be

back you’ll never be asked

and that’s maybe the hardest

trip of all walking off with the cause

in the pack and the first stone thrown

is the truest aim as ever was

truest and new as first times:

lips, knives, one shell, the dead

doe felled where her lamb stood

once last spring and maybe a cotton-

tail nosing the grass not far off,

or maybe it was the spring before,

like I said it was long enough ago

it was so long ago.