Black Tie Gone

Sorry I was gone there for so long. I just needed some time to not be snarky in public. But I'll be back tomorrow. In the mean time, the best poem for those of us working in offices all day and need something a little bit more clunky and delicious on the tongue:

I could give it back to you, perhaps in a season,

say summer. I could give you leaf back, green

grass, sky full of rain, root

that won'’t dig deeper, the names called out

just before sundown: Linda back, Susy back

Carolyn.

I could give you back supper

on the porch or the room without a breath

of fresh air, back the little tears in the heat,

the hot sleep on the kitchen floor,

back the talk in the great dark,

the voices low on the lawn

so the children can'’t hear,

say summer, say father, say mother:

Ruth and Mary and Esther, names in a book,

names I remember--—I could give you back this name,

and back the breath to say it with--—

we all know we'’ll die of our children--

back the tree bent over the water,

back the sun burning down,

back the witness back each morning.

-- '‘Say Summer/For My Mother' by S. Plumly