Four years and one day, Audrey

Four years and one day

by Audrey

Yesterday I looked for something to hang in your tree.

I wanted something to catch light and move

In the wind without sound.

The sounds would be disingenuous since you are stone silent.

But you do catch light in the corners of my eyes.

You rustle leaves. You are my hallucinations and ceaseless longing.

You are the ghost baby like a lost limb I still feel.

You are my undoing

And all the grace I have ever known. You

Are poems and images, tributes and tears.

You are the thread that holds me together at the seams.

You are the ocean between me

And every other person alive.

You are a long rope bridge to understanding.

You are my 7 Nation Army. You flick the lit match into

The rage that threatens to engulf me.

In your aftermath, I surrender all my pride.

Four years and one day brought this poem to me.

A day too late. Four years too late. Eighty years too soon.

All the ingredients are here in full supply.

It is from these things that I will cook until I can eat no more.

:::

about the piece.

I wrote the following April 5th, for Eva, a day after the 4th anniversary of her death.

 

about the poet.
Audrey is the mother of three. She is raising two and writes at Glutton Button.