How we loved the high style we wore
for vanishing occasions
though its warrants wore us down–
logic’s such a drag on
transformation—it just can’t match
the dark unwieldy charm of living
mostly outside yourself.
They later said a feeling
like a sorrowful trance
overcame them all at once–
they could not resist or run.
Mr. Billy found them
wandering his winter pasture,
called the sheriff to take them
home. Even hypnotized
they were unable to account
for the remote location
of their car.
That overgrown yard
I pass by after work–
rusty lawnmower abandoned
not even halfway through the job,
everything there already over,
everything already undone.
Love that concluding thought ‘how I wish I didn’t understand all the giving up in that.’ Resonantly captures the quiet sadness of experience.
Thanks for your kind and thoughtful note. I actually fretted about that line a little bit. So thanks!