vervain______

take it for what it's worth - a small collection

letting him
walk the ocean
alone.
"go"
i said
"there is no reason
both of us
should be in here
while he sleeps."
he checks out
the facilities.
"locked tight."
he reports.
the ocean continues its
washing
just beyond the hill
out of sight.
a family arrives
with two awake children
they are stuffed into
more clothing
as the wind
pulls at their hair.
i am thinking of
possiblities
or the lack
of them.
it is early.
we sit in silence
at the ocean
as
he sleeps on.

his finger
picks at a
dried spot of hot sauce
on the cover of my
library book.
i join him.
it is the first thing
we have done
together
today.
before then,
spit and venom.
small things
amplified.
i don't speak
loud enough
i didn't ask the question
correctly.
i counter attack.
"why are you on
my case?"
"why are you being
an asshole?"
i continue on,
my voice barking
while our son
watches.
i am never quiet.
only in rare moments
do i swallow the words
that always seem
to be right there
like over ripe fruit,
heavy and rotton,
on my tougue.

there are many ways
to disappear.
behind a hill
or a bush
or
the more elusive
in your own mind.
i send
the two on
without me
prefering to be
left behind.
my son
a kind of hairless
monkey
hoots and points
at objects emerging from
the new landscape.
my husband
moves himself
towards a bar,
his once long and
unkept hair
taken down
near the root
a couple days ago
in a short buzz cut.
he comes back for me
wondering what
i am doing.
the salt air is
enough for me
and right now
i am no glutton.
the deep breathes
i take in
are nessesary,
unquestionable.

the ocean
brings back the souls
of those
lost there.
i felt them
at the shore
(only whispers, really)
but they
don't want
anything to do
with me.
"rejoin your family."
is what they could have
advised,
had they cared
or
"return to simple
children's games."
but when i did,
their digging
produced ghosts
of their own -
thin and sad memories
to be recalled
later.