Her floors still sparkle
years after her brain melted
and disorder reigned.
It started with string:
a loose thread that unravelled
her tightly wound self

They completed each others sentences when they talked and sat in silence when they didn’t. Mary and Sid did everything together. In the home, they sat side by side, his arm draped across her shoulders. Francis would be coming later, their daughter who was always on the go, go, go. The daughter who came two years after their marriage. There was more there but his words didn’t come easily anymore.

Together they work,
Pushing the red orb skyward
With elephant trunks

A grey canopy protects hard earth
from the rush of sun, lets it sleep
6 months more before spring’s crude
conquering, shoots thrusting through soil
spreading across black dirt to choke it.

Briefcase in his hand,
he remembers days outside
kicking backyard balls
Wheels spin into space,
he thinks about his future –
collars choking him

Ribbons cut the sky like birthday decorations
and make a present of the atmosphere.
Lying on our backs we could be in Palastine,
Iraq or my uncle’s mid-prairie farm.