Reunion

I curve into the cluttered yard.

The surety of memory placing

the rented car

in a space

where once a hayshed

yawned at the facing hills.

My stranger’s arrival changes

as I emerge from the

foreign metal.

The registration of the car

forgotten

as its provenance is resolved.

My uncle moves through

the heavy stones

and greets me

in a low voice

that as ever lends formality

to the handshake.

We rest against the car,

the suspension slowly

taking the weight

of our conversation.

I have come home for one

funeral

and now prepare for

another.

You’ll see a great change

in himself he warns

and eases my

passage

into a new reality.

Somehow I begin to move

in towards the house,

a repeated path

but not so common now.

My grandparents’ rooms

are quieter too.

Not the quiet of the

old house.

Where range and

bench and beams

and dresser

soaked the gloom

with silence

releasing only the clock.

I’m told where he is

and I turn a corner

surprised at the distance

the short corridor

holds within its length.

The door rounds on me

and the shock of a stranger

met in a private place

mocks all preparation.

Only his dead sister’s bones

moving his skin to greet me

start our last conversation.

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One Response to Reunion

  1. Scot says:

    this is excellent as it leads and moves the reader–thanks for the visit–i will read more

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