Absence under the Eaves
folks rarely stopped by our flat
high under the eaves
maybe a bill collector
or a nosey child welfare woman
out of breath
bringing with her bound files
and a jiggle of fat under her chin
it was a cold-water two-room place
and heat was begged from coal
lugged up fifty steps
from the cellar
with the key around my neck
I came home from school
to the quiet of no-one-there
wishing mother was like others
waiting at the door
from five stories above the world
it was a challenge
to call me in for the night
dusk was my cue
to trek up the stairs
but fading daylight was easily
ignored in the thrall
of chalk and sidewalk games
at day’s end
mother stood on tired legs
in the evening kitchen
stirring and steaming
cabbage, spinach and eggs
burned flour soup
meat was mostly absent
absent like my mother
Elfride’s Father
at thirteen I was afraid of nothing
set free as I was from the parental
control of a working mom
I knew about bad boys
how to attract them
and how to repel
made my own rules
within the constraints of grown-ups’
acceptable manners
I was afraid of nothing
until a man’s wet kiss on my neck
at the communal mailboxes
raised my antenna
alerted me to adjust my book of rules
no I said, when my friend’s father knocked
urgently at my door
I was afraid of nothing
with the door between us
The Book
At day’s end you pat the space
beside you on the sofa
I close my book reluctantly
and join you out of habit
But the pages come between us
as I trudge on feet
numb to the sting of pain
I am part of the masses
belongings on our backs
or stacked on pushcarts
rumbling across frozen earth
with possessions we may never need
You do not see my face
in the dark
the tears that track over
my air-conditioned cheeks
while on TV we watch
winners and losers
perform outlandish feats
with food no one eats
Heavy legs
my face red-cold
a crust of bread softening
over days in my mouth
I hope for a potato field to pilfer
when the host of hosts
has dissolved on my tongue
there is no going back
no walking out of the storm
into yesterday’s sun