What Blocks Out the Sun<\/strong><\/p>\n

If you realize that all things change, there is nothing you will try to hold on to. If you are not afraid of dying, there is nothing you cannot achieve. \u2013\u2013 Lao Tzu<\/em><\/p>\n

Look, the tongue is not mapped, does not pair well<\/p>\n

with the drapes. It covers nothing, as nothing<\/p>\n

covered the world until the first tongue spoke.<\/p>\n

See me in the den with two men from White Haven.<\/p>\n

Watch them put on latex gloves, slip my son<\/p>\n

into a blue nylon bag. Hear the sound of a zipper,<\/p>\n

my wife\u2019s low moans under her throws.<\/p>\n

She would not speak for days and only now<\/p>\n

can she find the right words. The memories<\/p>\n

of him eight year later are thin. My torso expands.<\/p>\n

See me move from child\u2019s pose to corpse,<\/p>\n

my body\u2019s twister a game of nots, no more,<\/p>\n

a sharp taste on the tongue. It does not pair well<\/p>\n

with the drapes, the suits I wear, my reputation.<\/p>\n

Every night I\u2019m tangled in the blankets,<\/p>\n

wrestle with the trappings, the next day\u2019s drudge.<\/p>\n

I am an old man with arthritic hips, a bell\u2019s rusted clapper,<\/p>\n

a stiff cane. Come lean upon my shoulder.<\/p>\n

Place these ashes on my mantel. My body, yours,<\/p>\n

more than a shack of trinkets, more than a fortress<\/p>\n

of back-slaps. Walk with me a while longer.<\/p>\n

Beware the mirror coiling in its frame. Do not admit<\/p>\n

that serpent\u2019s tongue. Follow me down the stairway<\/p>\n

to a photo, three boys in a rotting tree\u2019s hollow.<\/p>\n

Walk with me where the cherry once blossomed.<\/p>\n

See what remains we scattered in the garden.<\/p>\n

Even now the ants will have their final say.<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

Inscription<\/strong><\/p>\n

Today I found this penny when cleaning<\/p>\n

out your room. This one penny.<\/p>\n

<\/ul>\n

Stamped the year we found that mole<\/p>\n

on your head, and you sixteen.<\/p>\n

<\/ul>\n

Uncovered it with a barber\u2019s comb<\/p>\n

through hair longer than Lincoln\u2019s.<\/p>\n

One mole. A penny\u2019s width and dark<\/p>\n

like this copper\u2019s tarnish. No one looks<\/p>\n

at pennies anymore, and yet,<\/p>\n

I found this one while cleaning.<\/p>\n

Mint-marked 2003. When you were<\/p>\n

just sixteen. In God We Trusted<\/p>\n

your one life after it was discovered,<\/p>\n

after that first report ruled it benign,<\/p>\n

when the surgeon took clean margins.<\/p>\n

Clean, he said, like this penny\u2019s ridges.<\/p>\n

We felt giddy then, like little children<\/p>\n

with a shiny new penny.<\/p>\n

All that hope when your scar was small<\/p>\n

and only you could feel it.<\/p>\n

That was the year this penny was stamped.<\/p>\n

This one penny. The one<\/p>\n

I put inside your alabaster jar.<\/p>\n

* * *<\/p>\n

He Listens<\/strong><\/p>\n

The light lengthens into the room<\/p>\n

and my father listens, for once,<\/p>\n

he listens to the story of that last night,<\/p>\n

how we hurried home because it was time,<\/p>\n

how our friend was sure that he would last<\/p>\n

another week, how I said, No, tonight,<\/p>\n

I\u2019m sure tonight, how I wheeled him to the door,<\/p>\n

how a boy from the deli greeted him,<\/p>\n

and he, beyond graciousness<\/p>\n

waited for the bed I\u2019d have to assemble,<\/p>\n

the one on loan from hospice, the one<\/p>\n

he slumped into relieved, glad<\/p>\n

to be home, his home one last night.<\/p>\n

My father listened, for once, he listened<\/p>\n

and I pictured him sitting at the hospital<\/p>\n

in Providence, sitting without words<\/p>\n

and waiting, his father laboring for each breath,<\/p>\n

my father listening for anything<\/p>\n

that might make sense, a blessing<\/p>\n

no longer withheld and he, finally<\/p>\n

acknowledged, so much at stake<\/p>\n

in that moment, one man dying,<\/p>\n

and another man, trying to listen.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

What Blocks Out the Sun If you realize that all things change, there is nothing you will try to hold on to. If you are not afraid of dying, there is nothing you cannot achieve. \u2013\u2013 Lao Tzu Look, the tongue is not mapped, does not pair well with the drapes. It covers nothing, as […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3186","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3186","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3186"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3186\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3299,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3186\/revisions\/3299"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3186"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3186"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/ducts.sundresspublications.com\/content\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3186"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}