What we spoke of at those times—
ordinary things like the weather,
ordinary things like the weather,
the inner life of Midwesterners rarely spoken of.
Self-reflection a luxury of the lazy.
Self-reflection a luxury of the lazy.
We sat outside so much growing up—
on the front porch, in the yard,
on the front porch, in the yard,
often before, during, or after a storm.
I remember mostly times with mother
who was usually in motion—a cracked artifact patched—
who was usually in motion—a cracked artifact patched—
visibly stronger and more beautiful.
My sibs and I competed for her favor.
My sibs and I competed for her favor.
In our house there was always a storm before calm.
There is a great silence where she once sat,
There is a great silence where she once sat,
so loud it is deafening.
A family fractures and no one can tell by looking at its parts.
We are the cracked trees of our youths’ ice storm
We are the cracked trees of our youths’ ice storm
scattered throughout a broken world.
Where is the peace we were promised?
Where is the peace we were promised?
Why do I think that promise had been made—
