Desperately Seeking Susans

MAGNOLIA
Another Valentine’s Day behind bars
and I bring you light from the stars
that you might find your way back to us
out of darkness. I bring you memories
of me – naked, happy, nine months’ pregnant
tasting applesauce in the kitchen.

I bring you the wind, the way
our house creaked as you rocked
our newborn daughter who couldn’t sleep.

I bring a handful of rain
that you may remember the sound of it,
and the smell of the earth
when you turn it in your hands.
I don’t know why our life took
the turn it did, but now the smell
of earth reminds you – the magnolia
tree you planted the day
our daughter was born: did it live?

I bring you tears, the ones you wept
mixed with the milky scent of those I kept
locked up in me as we sang our daughter
to sleep those first merciful years –
if I could I would give you wings
to carry you up to the sky.
When I kiss your eyes, your sudden cry
startles the magnolia to a deeper white.

THE ROOM WHERE THEY FOUND YOU
smelled of Madagascar vanilla.
After touching you for the last time
I scrubbed the scent from my skin – I would try
to remember later what the water felt like
on my hands but it was like trying to remember
thirst when you are drowning. They say love
doesn’t take much, you just have to be there
when it comes around. I’d been there
from the beginning, I’ve been here all along.

I believed in everything: the hope
in you, your brokenness, the way
you arranged cut flowers on a tray
beside my blue- and- white teacup, the cracked
cup I’d told you brought me luck, the note
you wrote, These flowers are a little ragged
– like your husband. The day you died

of an overdose in Vancouver
I found a moonshell in the forest, far
from the sea; when I picked it up
and pressed it to my ear I could hear you
taking the last breath you had the sad luck

to breathe. Our daughter cupped her hands
over her ears, as if she could stop death
from entering the life she had believed in
up until now. Childhood as she had known it
was over: the slap
of the breakers, the wind bruising the sea
tells her she is no longer safe in this world –
it’s you she needs. I see you pulling away
after shooting up in the car while we
stood crying on the road, begging
you to come home. The vast sky
does not stop wild clouds
from flying. This boundless grieving,
for whom is it carried on?

CONJUGAL VISIT
Nothing out of the ordinary, only
a doe and her fawn nudging
the hard yellow apple
you left on the grass, a fist- sized
Golden Delicious, the kind
that makes your mouth bleed
when you bite into it. The doe
raises her head when you step out
onto the deck to smoke your last
cigarette of the evening. Nothing
out of the ordinary, only the same
forgivable habit. I say, nothing
when you ask what’s the matter
later, and then I start weeping
I can’t help it I can’t
stop.

Blackberries, BramblesAkhmatova wrote, "O look!—that fresh dark elderberry branchis like a letter from Marina..." And she was right, branches criss-cross, words sharpen. We lop them down, fit theminto envelopes. But I forget: you don't do letters:Too much tangled in thickets and desperation.Did I say envelopes? I meant elevators.See, I've snagged favourite sweatersin high rises, snarled hair in hedges, given upskin scrapings for blackberries, tongueburst, the sweetstain, explosion under light canine pressure.Don't you just wish you were a dog sometimes?No panic. Romping through brambles.Even in delirium, near death, Akhmatova remembered.Her bitter friend had been dead a long time.Love. Don't think I'm thinking about you.Anything but you. EelThe lake is still, after the flash rain.A water spider crosses from shore to dockpropelled by snapping legs fine as a strand of hair.I lie on my stomach on rough cedar,watch through one of the gapsa green wedge of this strange world.The sun wraps me in a warm skin,dries the damp behind my kneesand in the small of my back,brushes the hair on my neck.Heat passes through me.I am cooled in stripesby the fresh water under me.A young eel writhes into the green,spirals between minnows like a lost necklacefalling through time into obscuring grass.I miss you.My fingers slipinto the crack beside my eyes.