Take Your Time
Just a few questions. Simple ones. You don't have to answer.
Just nod your head. Move your eyes. I understand. Can you
remember the first day? Were you planting something yellow,
rocks and old leaves clumped together, your fingernails bitten
down and black? I like pansies. I think it was spring. But I
should ask you. Was it spring? What do you think? About
plain letters or the blink of an eye? About lines, the one
that's been crossed? About strangers, the remarkable passing
of the little one a curtain away, your brother? Have you come
to think of me as a brother? Tell me. I want to know. Am I
sitting too close? Do you miss the loveliness of horse? Have
you ever thought how the body falls into sleep? Do you
sleep? Do you still love Mickey Mantle? Take your time.
Please feel free to answer everything or nothing at all. May I
sit even closer?
From YOU CAN TELL THE HORSE ANYTHING (Tupelo Press, 2003)