ultrasoftly

I ask the stranger: has light always

been operatic? We’re standing

knee deep in reeds, lapped in sunrise verging hurt

this red & burrow.

He doesn’t know my name

or the sights threading my every bone

but we wait, edge of the pond, & he tells me it began

as a hum

guttural, rising.

It cratered the air & overtook all noise before drifting back

to quake the ground.

The hands followed.

Pair after pair, tearing at earth

dirt breaking as crumb & grass knot

undone. They clawed until clean

of grave & stood, eyes paused in gape.

All wore souvenir t shirts,

promise rings, tennis shoes plump & bright

once more. Their chapped skin,

watery cheeks. He saw it all. Says he can help me

find her. Says –

Now you’re here, you can ice the distance

as honest daughter, something not cavity.

Axe the excuse of your name

‘til it loosens from bone.

I wrap the halves of my unzipped jacket

around my torso.

I cradle myself & sigh -

I made nests of harm. I never stopped. You see,