Interrogative

1. Falmouth, Massachusetts, 1972 Oak table, knotted legs, the chirp And scrape of tines to mouth. Four children, four engines Of want. That music. What did your hand mean to smooth Across the casket of your belly? What echoed there, if not me—tiny body Afloat, akimbo, awake or at rest? Every night you fed the others Bread leavened with the grains Of your own want. How Could you stand me near you, In you, jump and kick tricking The heart, when what you prayed for Was my father’s shadow, your name In his dangerous script, an envelope Smelling of gun-powder, bay rum, Someone to wrestle, sing to, question, Climb? 2. Interstate 101 South, California, 1981 Remember the radio, the Coca-Cola sign Phosphorescent to the left, bridge After bridge, as though our lives were Engineered simply to go? And so we went Into those few quiet hours Alone together in the dark, my arm On the rest beside yours, our lights Pricking at fog, tugging us patiently Forward like a needle through gauze. Night held us like a house. Sometimes an old song Would fill the car like a ghost. 3. Leroy, Alabama, 2005 There’s still a pond behind your mother’s old house, Still a stable with horses, a tractor rusted and stuck Like a trophy in mud. And the red house you might Have thrown stones at still stands on stilts up the dirt road. A girl from the next town over rides in to lend us Her colt, cries when one of us kicks it with spurs. Her father wants to buy her a trailer, let her try her luck In the shows. They stay for dinner under the tent Your brother put up for the Fourth. Firebugs flare And vanish. I am trying to let go of something. My heart cluttered with names that mean nothing. Our racket races out to the darkest part of the night. The woods catch it and send it back. 4. But let’s say you’re alive again— Your hands are long and tell your age. You hold them there, twirling a bent straw, And my reflection watches, hollow-faced, Not trying to hide. The waiters make it seem Like Cairo. Back and forth shouting That sharp language. And for the first time I tell you everything. No shame In my secrets, shoddy as laundry. I have praised your God For the blessing of the body, snuck From pleasure to pleasure, lying for it, Holding it like a coin or a key in my fist. I know now you’ve known all along. I won’t change. I want to give Everything away. To wander forever. Here is a pot of tea. Let’s share it Slowly, like sisters.