THE LEAVETAKING

1.

Now a new task:
To imagine you
Where it is warm, and always warm

As if in a garden,
As if in a kind of heaven,
To imagine you happy

Where the warm air
Mists the green-house glass

And not to notice
The sepulchral mold.

2.

You plan
On taking nothing with you
To you tombs.

You give away everything now
So that you may lie
Flat as good jewels

In your plain, deep boxes.
And yet
You hunger for bits of our lives

And when you leave
We take inventory of ourselves
As if we drew our breath

In the den of thieves.

3.

It is time for the world to end.
It is always time for the world to end.
It is closing on someone now.

Listen:
Those beats of the heart.
The sound of a door.

Locking into place.
Thump.
And again thump.

4.

Picture the world
Flat as a plate.
The figures stretch, yawn

Get up,
And walk to the edge.
Without thought,

They step off.
Talking, they step off.
Promising to return,

They step off.
Nothing remains of them
To fall.

At the edge,
The air is clear of snow,
Of pollen,

Of creation and all its things.

5.

We began remembering you
Long before you left.
It was safest.

Wrinkles formed no maps
And the doctors were always wrong.
There was a time

When cameras flashed
Like falling stars,
When we knew who you were.

6.

In dreams,
It is always a black train
Speeding through black mountains

On black rails,
Black shades pulled
And you inside somewhere.

A winged creature-
Something horrible-
Sweeps back and forth

Through the varnished air.
Inside,
People are fleeing from car to car.

The train moves so quickly,
It might well be still,
A painted sheen in oils.

Far above,
The stars twinkle,
At random,

And with no time.

7.

Soon we will be shoveling you
From our lives like snow

In a winter in which snow falls
Day and night.
It will be easier and easier

To mistake your shape
In the tilt of a hat,
A palm

Supporting the flat of your back.
Our walks and our driveways are clear.
Today, I saw a gas light,

And forgot where I was

8.

And soon,
You will join the others,
And watch from your elaborate frames

Like judges
While we revise you like texts.
As for instance,

The time you bought us
Ten white pigeons
And smiled

While we let each of them fly.

There were not so many.
It was a dream.
Or somebody else.

It was as I said.
Now I turn the key
In the glass cabinet

And leave everything there,
Free of dust.

9.

I keep coming back to the book.
The first page
Seems so far from the last.

So it will not end
I read it
More and more slowly

Lately, the last page
Turns
To the sound of a gong.

I cannot close the book
Without resting my hand
On its cover

As if on a heart.
Of course,
There is only one page.

The last.
The fact is there.

10.

You are on the other side
Of a tall metal arch.
It surrounds my house.

I cannot tell
Whether you are arriving or leaving.
You are trying to tell me something,

But the roses kept thickening
And the bees
Keep us both where we are.

I know
What you wanted to say
Was not important.

Nevertheless,
I wanted to hear it.

11.

In dreams,
When I dial you number,
You answer.

You open my letters.
You complain of neglect.
What am I to do

With the old numbers,
The old addresses,
The old rooms,

And the new family
Moving through the old house
Like ghosts.

12.

The small faces
Ripen into yours.
Thank God

They do not bear your names.
I could not say them.

13.

Last night,
The witches toiled
Until morning.

The peacock sang in a sweet voice,
There,
Perched on his scaly turkey legs.

Was I supposed to care?
I care about everything now,
As one does

Once one knows
His days will be catalogued,
Sorted,

Burned,

And every dawn arrives,
And will arrive,
Bordered in black.