Thursday, August 17, 2006

Where the Heart Isn't

Where the Heart Isn’t

Day ends with the cicada’s (ceaseless) rattle.
Dusk begins, signaled by the flap of moths

(up from the blades) and bats. Three crows
fly and caw across the sky, staggered.

(I do not think about death.) A white kitten
(almost cat) stalks daddy long legs, centipedes

and gnats. (I do not wonder if I could live
with one less leg or wing.) A male cardinal

sits at the top of the cherry and sings his tiny
heart out. (Mine! Mine! Mine! Or: Night

is coming! perhaps.) A contrail drifts lows
like a tornado chopped in half. (Where

did you fly to? Why did you go? I never
asked.) Night comes on so suddenly,

(all green goes black) that I find myself
sitting in the starless dark, the house glowering

unlit behind me like a stranger who wants
to buy me a drink. (Home; where the heart isn’t.)

7 comments:

Brian Boutwell said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Brian Boutwell said...

A white kitten
(almost cat) stalks daddy long legs, centipedes


and gnats. (I do not wonder if I could live with one less leg or wing.) -- Perfect!

Jill said...

love this, laurel, esp that ending about starless night.

David said...

hey, good one. the parentheticals work really well here. and almost the opposite, maybe, of what would be expected.

might consider dropping the last one, though. maybe. i guess i'm not so sure that i like seeing the title echoed there.

--D

Julie Carter said...

I was going to comment about maybe dropping the last line, and then I see that David has already made that comment. So, er, what he said.

Lyle Daggett said...

Nice poem, I especially like the ending. I disagree with a couple of the other comments, I think the last line "Home, where the heart isn't" works fine.

"...the house glowering

unlit behind me like a stranger who wants
to by me a drink. (Home, where the heart isn't.)"

I love that.

Brian Boutwell said...

Maybe remove "home" from the title, so there is something unexpected to the last line...