"Are We Still Married?"

Are We Still Married?

It begins with a blink, a single tear,
but the path of that small wet orb,
the strength, the life force, the will
of that tear is unquenchable, unstoppable,
terrifying, sets it all in motion.
The little bunny tries to catch it, still it.
The flowers, faded and dried, covered
with dust, in a glass bottle dug from
the dirt of the Pawnee Plains;
the itch under the dress;
everything in this dark world shakes
with a palsy and the knuckles
knock knock knock at the door
louder than religion.
Hard to ignore it.
Well, look at that, he says,
I can do that too.
She has thorns on her fingers.
The tears swarm around you unless you
stay very still and the back of the hand
rap rap raps against the door and
he screams, “Stop it!
Stop knocking!
Stop
Knocking!”

©JEF 2005