(February 17, 1979 - August 26, 2007)
More drew us together even
with (because
of, I would have said) two children than pulled
us apart or so
I thought for thirteen lonely (I see
now) years. It was a suicide that divided us
at last: your baby brother who could no longer
bear Atlas’s burden, could
no longer be what
being is. The earth
rolled off
his lean shoulders—a boulder crashing
down the long ravine you
& I walked, hand-in-
hand with our children—cracking the
wind, knocking you off
your feet, knocking you for
a loop, breaking
the ties that bind; your entrails ripped
from far beneath your heart & just
above your womb.
