Martha Collins

although my father although my mother although we rarely although we whispered although the silence although the absence although even now some TV books not to mention radio websites new militias hate groups raging against our socialist- communist-fascist although but still: our textbooks now our museums mostly our college literature courses even our crayons not to mention our young president who could scarcely have been imagined when we when I— and although I've gone back and filled in some blanks I'm still learning this un- learning untying the knot of Yes but re- writing this Yes Yes

Because my father said Yes but not in our lifetimes Because my mother said I know my daughter would never want to marry.

October 2004 1 Not much. Less. Slip of a finger, diminished interval, maybe third of three or two. Water mirrors house with high green door opening out (no steps) into pure air. 2 Air pockets three hawks. Cat got the bird got the cat. Overflown. A habit of flight. Worn cloud on the edge of edge. Wisps. Little tongues. 3 Tongues at work.Talk Today She could did for an hour or more. My first her, who gave me words. Then at the end, before, merely Oh! A moment of... of more, perhaps. Oh sweet and blessed could be. Oh my soul 4 Soul slept, called in sick. Late sun clouds the lake with clouds. Katydid down to -did -did. Nothing to be done. Little sun, quarter moon. 5 Moon covered, un- covered, covered again, cold. Cold and hot, very and both. Disturbed the Sea of Tranquility. Distributed by the Moon Shop. Distributed self in pieces. Oh my broken. 6 Broken down, or out, as in war, or into, soon: my own him. How much we carry around under our skins, many we were, girls and boys Now now And then then. 7 Then gone and then to come: all the time, except the split second, except— All the time in the world. And out of this world? Oh little heart on my wrist, where are we going? 8 Going home: packed her bags to go back ninety years burning skirt broken fork slow train the old house current counter under cross The one who gave me time is out of time. 9 Time to shut the rattling windows slamming doors And if at first you don’t and if you try again and don’t you slip a little slide Rope burns hands over the book the pages over 10 Over time she— Overtime. Timer she was Click I mean I. Would work the week long song bird in the— Burning bush ahead, red sumac jeweled by sun. 11 Sun, here come the clouds again. Between us. You could care: you’ll swallow us up on your way out. You’re almost halfway there, and here am I, way past half. 12 Half-life, half-light, half- moon, half-mast: low flag, and every evening down. Discovered a world of green in him, on the shore of newfound skin His different hand 13 Hand over hand over: change for an empty Enter the bare page Oh keep him safe in his thin shift on his metal bed 14 Bed for one, my very one, own, oh let him let him Someone’s deep inside him now, something inside him’s taken is it is he let him breathe 15 Breathe light hold in the light: him at bandaged rest, her last year in her last bed: the apple pink just under the skin: I am floating again a little less less the chord resolving. 16 Resolved, that leaves should turn and turn: color to motion to rest. Flutter of yellow, flash of red, bronze- leafed trunk fallen across the path. Ducks twitch white tails over the water, geese stretch necks ... All fall down. All rise. All different. 17 Different from us. Dry, quiet. Still. Still Freeman    Sarah    Rebekah   John locust    maple    hornbeam     oak Timothy. Bent grass under our feet, over their bones. Katheryn. Out of. Under and over. 18 Over my— my tiny planet, growing colder, little train that could but where’s the track?   On,off again, over my, un- done, nerve flinched at No. But maybe If— 19 If. Only. Then again. But out of time just now as the lace of yellow locust leaves molecules particles waves catches its breath begins to hum. 20 Hum of words under words: brief for breath, him for hum, him still in his bed for one— And clouds so thick and fast the whole sky’s turning. 21 Turning now to the newsy world the Red Sox take last four claim pennant countries taken in or out people counted no count bombing voting mission killing vision blurred our leader says God says had hatred in his heart he said rage testosterone he said our leader vote for God 22 God is not a Republican Democrat Yankee Red Sox fan of him or her— But him is whom our bed is holding, him my one is home again, oh bless him keep him safe this little time that is our life. 23 Lifetime, timeline, line- up, down time, no time to lose time, all time gone. More of them, body count a full count, bases loaded, all bets off, one by one, or war time lots, all at once. 24 Once there was a girl, a boy, end of story in one first word, once she was and nothing’s left of her except me oh my and her him too: her last days he also came all back to me but now my own him is here is not once upon but times many. 25 Many, as in instances, or all, one, as in passing, as in course of: two words for time, in Vietnamese, but one for all the times to do, for go went gone, as in, this colder day, the geese: only ducks and gulls on the little pond, its tiny island. 26 Island’s I, for all the thinking not (no man no self). Island’s home, at least for some. But here’s a little boat for back and forth with one beside, rowing through the eventide, the late evening. 27 Evening out. On the town, out of town: city wearing your black dress sequined with lights, I am coming down for an even- ing out, in bed beside. The rest: held by, holding. 28 Holding on the Red Sox won eclipsing even the full eclipsed moon a moment outside the trouble we’ve seen though the TV had to bring in the war the war that people believe is good because they want to believe it’s a winning team 29 Teeming with leaves, trees and ground all gold around gray stones: I am greeting my last neighbors, we shall all be changed, pieces of gold slipping into air. 30 Airborne, air-born, hand- sized cradle to hold a soul, no broken- bough fall. Good news today, but best in the air, this old new leaf, turning it over. 31 Over and over again and again, time after time, stone upon hallowed stone. More than bones, ghost- thin skin, I’m here, much less less. Not yet not.

November 2015 1 Open up for close out    soul-clothes    every- thing has to go    closing down time    call them all saints    souls    my own gone ones:  Andy    Marcia    Mary Alice Mary Anne     cloud of all    carried out 2 outside my window: locust, cloth of gold     on the ground: its yellow tabs   linden hearts   sweetgum stars like cut-outs from the same ... paper-napkin ghosts in a tree near the house where a year ago my friend — rust-colored chrysanthemums   rust-colored door 3 door to door the angel no the Lord passed or did not pass — the angel opened the prison door     doors to pass through, out or in:  our millions, more than any — in the other story the Lord said:to put a difference between 4 between one and another a gun:  at one end it’s a good gun because at the other’s a cell phone pill bottle toy gun nothing a Trayvon    Tamir    Dontre    Michael Laquan    Eric    Rekia    John:    call them out and the others, black and many 5 many thousand gone    no more auction block

January 2009 1 Snow fallen, another going gone, new come in, open the door: each night I grow young, my friends are well again, my life is all before me, each morning I close a door, another door. 2 Cloud on cloud, gray on gray, snow fallen on snow, tree on tree on unleafed tree— only a river silvered with thin ice and a slash of gold in the late gray sky. 3 Grayed snow slush trudge but snow falling coating filling in for absence Present! child with stringed mittens here to take her place to take over on snow showing up air 4 White sky, whiter sun brushing trees with tints of red, then in the distance streaking mauve gold, filling in between the now filagreed trees, silhouettes against the now red burning sky. 5 As if letting go, dangling down, only down, through a cracked pane, a clear pane, weeping beech branches, roots in air, only the crack slant- ing up or (last night in sleep’s play a long red slide) sloping down 6 down buildings walls houses schools, no one building only bombing, months of little in, now nothing no one out, only down: bodies arms legs in Gaza where the eyeless man tore pillars house himself the people down 7 On this day, this birthday, I wish myself for the first time (who would be a child again?) back at that dining room table with him, his years of little more less back, not as in the note in her birthday book,died 84 yrs of age 8 snow          rain             ice stand         walk            fall little           more           less face            flesh            hand will             is                 was oh               yes              no melt           rain             snow 9 Off the page, sliding or I brush or don’t see you, but without you, so cold, colder than stooped-by-age shoulder, oh flesh, hand, Love, come turn my page. 10 Tempered by age, passion, rage cool, no lost sleep— while in sleep they burn again, your fine hand igniting my thigh, live birds crushed under my feet, then morning grays again, aged back, writing died... of age 11 As body to body fall- ing together we burn again, snow drifts in air, turns, rolls almost horizontal, takes its own slow time off from falling 12 Gun to body, shell to body, bombs to bodies: three, five, now nine hundred bodies, over two hundred children’s bodies, over the border to Gaza to close the already closed border, not to meet, border to border: a border has no body, is only a side. 13 Epiphany missed,not the seen but the coming to see,or star, the minister said, light sensed against the dark, but not even the dark night, or the cold bright, snow roof over the roof below the darkness before— only gray, industrial gunmetal battleship slate gray, and the coming of gray 14 Friend Sleep has betrayed me I’m trapped in a castle with villainess villain two doors open a third slams down before the darkness I’m trapped in a room my friends accuse me I hide my sheets I cannot tell them I’m dying and then awaking I’m hurting (why these dreams?) my betraying self 15 In sleep a holocaust rations trapped in a kitchen ovens coming why not eat them if food is scarce— In Gaza food is scarce, power lost, the UN Compound, a hospital hit today, now over 1000 dead— But see, here,History:the Future: some hope, though still rationed, is Coming Soon. 16 stuck zipper sticky egg wiped off mouth mother’s mouth lined around but pursed now closer why not eat touch again all right merge again then zip: put sleep to sleep 17 Today the train too fast they said too soon they said not yet they said to Washington all right now a black man to the White House on the train. 18 On his way to the Capitol largely built by slaves who baked bricks, cut, laid stone— on his way to stand before the Mall where slaves were held in pens and sold— on his way to a White House partly built by slaves, where another resident, after his Proclamation, wrote: If slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong. 19 One hundred years later,King said and said to the crowd on the Mall, Now is the time and We can never be satisfied as long as,he dreamed:every valley exalted,all these years until not an end, they said,a beginning 20 O bless hold help keep him safe, let him help us through this cold, let us help him help us through this cold, let its end be O yes a beginning. 21 Cold is in the air, troops are finally out of Gaza where 1300 dead are on or in the ground where olive trees are up- rooted, down, spoons a coloring book limbs shoes in the rubble— In the depths of winter, he said. Today he is In, at work. 22 White roof over the roof, white branches clinging to branches, even the still fallen snow is moving, even icicles shift toward dripping, nothing, not even the cold bodies we are becoming is not moving, not even the ground is not moving, over, on 23 Beyond my windowed wall, gray clouds move over clouds, beyond the Wall that grays Gaza, dust over dust of disturbed bodies, wall with drawn- in windows, winter mirror 24 cold              heart               comfort           shoulder feet               hands             water               drawn in                  from                left                   out take              stay                 sober                stone grave            still                  body                turn on                 light                 open                to warm           up                     front                heart 25 fallen snow shifts blows drifts from tree to ground, leaves the beautiful skeletal limbs open to only all over air wind lifts then lets fall 26 He stumbled but still, she blundered but still, they said what they shouldn’t have said and recovered, of course they are the great but even the small (though all, we early learn, may fall) may leave the mistaken, misspoken behind as late we stumble into our selves. 27 maybe not long, you said, cancer cancer cancer, c’s crashing like waves— waves of frozen foam that day on that lake— you who please don’t go I can late we I can better Love I 28 mouth with you to mouth with you to body with you in body embodied, not yet un- bodied Love I can better no room so warm as with— I think I thought I could I can but not without you 29 In Vietnam: new year of the water buffalo, steady, slow, welcomed with peach blossoms, fruits, red wine— In Gaza: year of the new war, now ended but no room to bury the dead, no place for the living to buy food, water, any ... 30 for the woman who cooks on a fire of sticks, her bag of clothes on a tree for those going home to water their trees, lemon and almond and olive and for those trees 31 snow to rain to ice to melt to freeze frame window grayed in with old self same but new has come can better Love I—going home bless keep clean gray slate not white or black for even these few words, this small rain