Departing the House of Your Former Life
Once you close that door, hear the click
of the latch, there’s no going back.
The single key is, from this day forward,
forever lost. You may run circles
around it, you may peer
into each window for as long as desired,
but entry is impossible. Best
to gather the few remaining flowers
before the garden lapses into ruin,
before bindweed takes over.
Fill your pockets with apples – they won’t
lumber from these branches again.
Oh, you believe still in a midsummer picnic
beneath this arbor -- cheese and a humble wine
tucked into gingham. Best to disavow all
you’ve abandoned inside this lathe & plaster
fortress, every root still clutching its
square inch of soil. Better to leave
and not return, not recall the accumulation
of broken beds, the last unshattered cup,
the wedding china. And a rock thrown
at a pane can do no good.
Unpin the solitary dress hung ragged
on the line, yank the numbers
from the siding, check the mailbox
for a final letter. No curtain wavers
and every candle is a wickless stub.
Not a soul to wave you on but your own.
--T. Clear 2010
Check out the other Tuesday Poets here.
Tuesday Poets is a New Zealand based blog
of perhaps 30 poets posting a new poem every Tuesday
on the masthead blog, plus many new poems
on individual blogs. A great group!