A BIRD IN THE HAND: TWO SOLOS - Richard Shelton

Wife:               there was nothing wrong with our dreams

                        they fit us like scales on a fish

                        our dreams of patience and goodness

                        were not beyond our abilities

                        and our dreams of sex were harmless

                        there was nothing

                        wrong with our dreams except

                        they were the wrong dreams for us

                        now we see we had little choice

                        and once we had chosen each other

                        even that was taken away

Husband:         when I reached out with my right hand

                        and touched you

                        I knew everything had been planned

                        even what I am saying now

                        had been prepared

                        for me to say

           

                        and if I had reached out

                        with my left hand

                        at a different time on a different day

                        you would have been there

                        and everything would be the same

Wife:               coming of age

                        I found myself in the desert

                        following the wrong leader

                        but how could I have abandoned you

                        when I knew you would perish without me

                        so I said let it ride

                        and I rode with it

                        through a godforsaken land without trees

                        or flowers or anything beautiful

                        while the wind played my ribs like a harp

                        I don’t enjoy being laughed at

                        but I have learned

                        to practice a certain amount of madness

                        most difficult of the arts

                        and the least rewarding

Husband:         before we realized what they were

                        they were over 

                        those days when we lived

                        in furnished rooms and could laugh

                        at their ugliness

                        later

                        well on our way

                        and established in our own shambles

                        drinking good wines and eating good salads

                        we gave up bread and butter

                        and those private days those brief

                        beautiful days

                        gladly

                        as if we had a choice

Wife:               I keep busy all day

                        but when the sun goes down

                        I seem to go with it

                        once I walked out the door and entered night

                        because it was there

                        and because it promised everything

                        but what because of the promises

                        we didn’t live up to

                        only the young are aware of life

                        burning at their shoulders

                        only they know his touch

                        later it is all speculation

                        and empty phone booths

                        waiting for violent acts of love

                        I keep telling myself I will

                        feel better tomorrow

                        but I don’t believe it

                        there is always tomorrow night

Husband:         I saw you sleeping

                        knees bent to the right a little apart

                        head turned to the left

                        right arm at your side and left arm

                        above your head with your hand

                        caught in the wildness of your hair

                        until I saw you like that

                        I never understood why

                        there were so many paintings of nudes

Wife:               we are separate people

                        each what he fears most each his own

                        trap his own bait his own victim

                        I am not responsible for your life

                        and you are not responsible for mine

                        I wanted to get married

                        and you thought that meant I loved you

                        now you are going deaf and I pity you

                        how hard it must be for a man

                        who has been blind all these years

Husband:         there are others

                        who had all the advantages I had

                        and kept them

                        but deafness grows

                        on my family tree like a vine

                        choosing one limb and avoiding another

                        now that my ears

                        have started to go blind

                        I find myself among the chosen

                        and someday I will hear the true sound

                        of darkness

                        I have learned to expose my eyes

                        to the lips of strangers

                        and understand what they cannot say

                        living as I do

                        with my secrets unheard

                        and listening always with my eyes

                        how can I blame you

                        if you turn your face away

Wife:               all afternoon

                        your shadow your only child

                        grew taller

                       

                        now he is leaving and you will be alone

                        in the darkness that has been

                        and the darkness that is coming

                        the same darkness

                        bright moons in the blood move on

                        as water moves in the bed of a river

                        sleeping at night and waking

                        somewhere else

                        once I turned quickly and saw you

                        looking only at me

                        even if I could explain I wouldn’t

                        even if I could explain to you

                        I would oh I would

                        how any love story is a sad story

                        and we kiss ourselves goodby

                        each time we kiss each other

Husband:         those who have no children

                        become the children they were

                        and those who have several children

                        extend themselves like fingers

                        stretching into deep grass

                        but we have only one child

                        and both of us must crowd into his body

                        elbowing each other for space

Wife:               I remember

                        when this photograph was taken

                        the aperture opened on my life

                        as it was as it appeared to be

                        with the eyes of a deer on the wall

                        and a tongue which could tell

                        the truth

                        but the other was easier

                        my life created for me

                        and I like a fool accepted it

                        with its hand over its mouth

                        to hide the bleeding

                        waiting on the steps

                        of the front porch for years saying

                        you are young you will find somebody

                        my life with a life of its own

                        daring me to leave it

                        saying I am all I have it isn’t enough

Husband:         waiting is hardest but we have to wait

                        for the good things to come to us

                        I always have this next thing to do

                        while I am waiting

                        something important that needs to be done

                        a dog to be fed a plant to be watered

                       

                        I had two friends

                        one is gone the other is dead

                        now our son is grown up and no longer

                        needs me and you say I am the cause

                        of all your unhappiness

                        these things are true

                        but there is always this next

                        thing to do something important

                        that needs to be done while I am waiting

Wife:               ambition

                        worm in my bowels

                        the more I starve you the more you grow

                        others have killed their thousands

                        but you have killed your tens of thousands

                        I tell you

                        the stars can see only into the past

                        they do not know what I am doing

                        and do not care and the moon

                        which knows everything

                        cares even less

                        but you answer me with the story

                        about water always running away from home

                        and returning purified

Husband:         years ago I took this woman

                        you took this man

                        and we kept each other

                        but each of us still wants to be a victim

                        as if love were an accident

                        caused by carelessness

                        and we could hold one another responsible

                        in order to get what we need from each other

                        what have we traded except parts of our lives

                        huge parts of our lives

                        and what have we gained

                        except huge parts of each other’s lives

                        love always gives

                        more than we bargain for

Wife:               I heard a bird cry a name

                        and when I looked I found you

                        in the trap of my hand

                        crying a name I could not understand

                        your own or the name of someone you lost

                        it was never mine

                        I tried to find someone to love me

                        before it was too late

                        but there was no one

Husband:         I heard a bird call my name

                        but when I found the bird

                        it was you

                        caught in the trap of my hand

                        and what I heard was your pain

                        it has always been

                       

                        I tried to find a place

                        where I could not hear that sound

                        but there was no place

Wife:               I heard a bird cry a name

Husband:                     I heard a bird call my name

                        and when I looked

                                    it was you

                        in the trap of my hand

                                    what I heard was your pain

                        crying a name I could not understand

                                    it has always been

                        your own or the name of someone you lost

                                    it was never mine

                        I tried to find

                                    a place

                        someone to love me

                                    but there is no other place

                        there is no other one

a haiku about you - lc

i do not need a

flower’s petals to know that

you do not love me

Lines for Winter - Mark Strand

                                                                            for Ros Krauss

Tell yourself

as it gets cold and gray falls from the air

that you will go on

walking, hearing

the same tune no matter where

you find yourself—

inside the dome of dark

or under the cracking white

of the moon's gaze in a valley of snow.

Tonight as it gets cold

tell yourself

what you know which is nothing

but the tune your bones play

as you keep going. And you will be able

for once to lie down under the small fire

of winter stars.

And if it happens that you cannot

go on or turn back

and you find yourself

where you will be at the end,

tell yourself

in that final flowing of cold through your limbs

that you love what you are.

Decline - Friedrich Nietzsche

“He sinks, he falls, he’s done”—says who?

The truth is: he climbs down to you.

His over-bliss became too stark,

His over-light pursues your dark.

COLLECTING FUTURE LIVES - Stephen Dunn

Now that everybody was dead

only he and his brother knew

the blood secrets, the unequal

history each nervous system

keeps and rehearses

into a story, a life.

Over the years they’d agreed

to invent and remember

a long hum of good times,

love breaking through

during card games,

their father teaching them

to skip stones

under the Whitestone Bridge.

The smart liar in them

knew these stories

were for their children

who, that very moment

over dinner, were collecting

their future lives.

But sometimes

in their twice-a-year visits

late at night

when their wives had tired

of the old repetitions,

they’d bring up the silences

in the living room

after a voice had been raised,

father’s drinking, mother’s

long martyrdom before the gods

of propriety and common sense.

In their mannerisms

each could see the same ghosts.

And if they allowed themselves

to keep talking,

if they’d had enough to drink,

love would be all

that mattered, the love

they were cheated of

and the love they got,

the parental love

that if remembered at all

had been given, they decided,

and therefore could be given again.

AT HIS HOUSE - Stephen Dunn

In my friend's face it's not easy to separate

what's serenity, what's despair.

What the mouth suggests the eyes correct,

and what looks like acceptance

is a kind of détente, the world allowed

to encroach only so far.

At his house, we put aside

the large questions: Is there? And if so?

replace them with simple chores.

We bring vegetables in from the garden.

We shuck corn. Is it possible

to be a good citizen without saying a word?

Both his wives thought not, wanted love

to have a language he never learned.

He'd make wine for them from dandelions.

Sundays he'd serve them breakfast in bed.

In his toolbox he was sure he had a tool

for whatever needed to be fixed.

The deed reveals the man, he says.

I don't tell him that it's behind deeds

he and I often hide.

I've got a face for noon, a face for dusk,

a fact he lets slide. Both of us think friendship

is about what needn't be said. 

It seems we're a couple of halves, men

almost here, hardly there. At his house less

feels good. I always come back for more.