Leave a comment

FIRST WORD IN A TIME OF MOURNING by Elizabeth Hazen

But I cannot shift  the geometry of space. I told myself clouds, but stars confronted me,
my cosmic ignorance: speed of light,

gravity, the workings of clocks, cell division,
fossilization, my skin’s elasticity,

and some nights the lunar phase that leaves no moon
to find. I carried you in circles,

eyes angling for crescent, quarter, halo.
You pursed your lips, waited for my revelation.

If absence could be filled at will, disappointment
swept away like ash— If negative spaces

did not call us here, to shadow—  If all it took
was gesture, words—  But I cannot shift

the geometry of space. I have no answers
to give you. I have held on tightly only to find

my palm impressed with fingernails: parentheses
waiting for content. Should I say, Look there,

little one! Heaven, empty as a drained pool.
Forgive me. I met your first effort at speech

with silence, the only answer consonant
with loss, my offering: this blank sky.

 

3QR Author Note

3QR Author Bios

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: