Day 522, November 29, 2021

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I Dream of Excuses

We knew it was going to happen, 
like snow falling from a roof, 
the ginkgo tree’s day, 
a sad wobbling chicken, 
the collapse of a Halloween pumpkin, 
the car that gets louder and louder, 
the ache that continues unabated.

There is an eagerness to inevitability. 
The way a spouse eyes the last French fry, 
how a dog scratches the door, 
the words to an email I have forgotten to write.

I dream of excuses. 

All the while, the pallor becomes more complex. 
It is hard to read the fine print in a moving car. 
I am sorry it has been so long, I have been ill, 
I was traveling, it was the holidays, 
I couldn’t find a chicken, 
the steps needed fixing, 
I was trying to pretend the world is not changing, 
becoming a new dangerous thing
.
I wonder if you will forgive me, 

I wonder if you will love me, 
I wonder if you harbor unspoken words 
that will remain unspoken and eat at your insides 
like a chocolate Easter bunny.

In time we will spend our days listening. 
Like after that day and there were no airplanes, not a single one. 

We imagine a summer’s day in Jeonju, 
a brisk swim in the Durance, 
a Jeep ride in Culebra. 
These things indicate health, well being, 
a planet less ambivalent 
and more like a cold November morning.

Somewhere outside of Middlebury after Thanksgiving.


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