Poem: Lullaby for Letting Go | Poetry | Hudson Valley | Hudson Valley; Chronogram
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Poem: Lullaby for Letting Go 

Preface

With the practical

Slaughter of the past,

A smooth lullaby can be crooned;

One that secures and

Lets the child transcend

The dark waters that

Have swallowed her down.


I.

My earliest memory:

My father leaving,

One hand raised in frozen farewell

While his legs move under him

In slow procession away from the door.


This image caught—

Entangled like a dream inside a dream—

Is false.

False because it never happened.

False because it was conjured by

A two-year-old mind,

Straining to have

One

Defining

Moment

By which to live her life.


II.

The truth:

My father did leave, but not like that.

He left in stages with no clear edges.

Like a water color masterpiece,

He hung weightless in midair.


The past is relentless.

Seeping out of unseen pores,

It is placed before us

Dangling with awkward grace


And we spend our lives

Escaping

The one

Defining

Moment

In hopes that it will vanish,

Only to find that we are

Never very far from

The original

Wound.

 


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