HE THINKS IT WAS JUST YOU HE MARRIED

by Judith Offer

Without any warning

He has broken all our words,

Carried them around his town

Leaving them at doorsteps:  Unattached,

They hop whatever breeze and rustle off,

Unconnected, with nothing to mean by.

Is that why you wander your yard,

Collecting the floating autumn leaves?

            We will basket them with you

            If you show us which ones.

The night that you told us

We burned your pain in our fireplace

And when it was ashes

Buried it in our love. We would have

Slept with you between us like a baby,

And on into the next day

Which grayed over and teared quietly,

Like you, trying not to disturb.

            It’s too late:  We’re long past not caring

            And we have to cry, too.

In the cold sunrises

Your fair child sleeps uneasy

To dreams of Daddy

Coming home. We want to hold her

And tell her he will soon put his clothes

Back in the closet. But last time he came

He lined it with leaves

And told her to sleep in it.

            After a while will we all get used

            To your small daughter on a shelf?

With winter coming in

We could bring you candles by the armload.

But the light you look for

Would come in his eyes. At least we can

All build a fire so the child won’t freeze.

Clean the ash heap from your heath;

We will take it outside

And throw it at the wind.

            Whatever catches in our eyes

            Will wash with tears.

* * * * *

Judith Offer has had two daughters, five books of poetry and dozens of plays. (Eighteen of the latter, including six musicals, have been produced.)  She has read her poetry at scores of poetry venues, but is particularly delighted to have been included in the Library of Congress series and on “All Things Considered,” on NPR.  Her writing reflects her childhood in a large Catholic family—with some Jewish roots—her experience as teacher, community organizer, musician, historian, gardener, and all-purpose volunteer, and her special fascination with her roles of wife and mother.  Her most recent book of poetry, called DOUBLE CROSSING, is poems about Oakland, California, where she lives with her husband, Stuart.