WAKE
for Catherine who loved being here
The sisters assemble to welcome her home; she’s been gone three months
making her way uneasily from scan to drip from x-ray to exit as days won’t
leave without an answer. I am early so go to Ernesto’s for coffee and listen
to Omara, her feel for what can’t be said, her voice exiled from dark. Hope
is fine but don’t expect too much of what you have known before. Old lace
still good, a crucifix, rippled flesh secured. How would you call it Catherine?
Time to compose ourselves in the music of heartbreak as Omara can’t do it
for us, time to let you off on your way, the way that you went into the light.