31

This little house has
Crooked windows
Slanted stairwells
Sagging ceilings

A stoop bathed in sunlight
stormy blue and white
Red and white leather
Diner booth for two

A garage smelling like gasoline
Six classic cars covered in canvas
Photos from sixty years ago
Framed in tarnished gold

Off the bedroom is a tiny porch
Too old and weathered to use
-KM

a week in panic:
little red spots
on my arms
and legs

worry as a
constellation:
my back in
red blotches

one trip to
the e.r. and
a small tube
hydrocortisone

still don't know
what it is
-Hannah

30

The rivers

are low. The rain has not

come since snow existed.

In the city

hidden from the sky

forgetful of the river

under the clouds

far from the shore

rain finally comes down.

Upstate it means more

and fills ponds, lakes and rivers

while people watch.
-Hannah

Headlights blur
Into white streaks
Foggy windows
Softening their cut
Through the dark air
Disguising our vision
Our movement
Its trajectory feels isolated
Distant from those around
From those so close
The violence of rain colliding against
These paths of travel
Peaceful when seen as
Drips calmly running down glass
-KM

29

In New York City when it

was both hot and humid,

In the crumbled corner of

Lexon Hill Hospital.

Born with blood

incompatibility and jaundice.

In my extra week in the

yellow hospital I cried.

My mother made the bed

beside the curtains.

In Hoboken under the sheets,

a scrap of a blanket.

Slept with each night

at age thirty-four.
-Hannah

How many times have been spent together
Walking up toward Columbus Circle
I recall stopping, you wanted to get
Vanilla frozen yogurt with peanuts

Passing FA0 Schwarz you licked the cone
He took a big bite without asking you
Talking closely, quietly together
No need to say you were truly happy

At the bottom of Central Park gather
Tourists and horses with their carriages
Flashes as photographs capture the time
All in black, quietly you'll always stand

In my memory of this far-gone day
There's really no reason to remember
-KM

28

Open windows letting in a breeze
Carrying the sweet smell of the sun's warmth
Only present in the full bloom of spring
Exhilarating

The scent of hyacinths so attached to
Airy dresses with sheer flower fabric waving about the knees
The dogwood tree's flowers above
Standing on toes in its shade to get a closer look

Growing feet sweating in nude colored stockings
Sliding inside of new glossy leather shoes
The stark contrast of fresh dirt on white shoes
Stepping from grass onto hard concrete

The parking lot so filled with cars
Mirrors reflecting the endless sky
-KM

Before we had a dog
my mother would
line jelly beans
inches apart

to the kitchen.
Chocolate
and marshmallows
before breakfast.

Outside
my young brother
placed a blue egg
in his mouth

and bit down
and cried.
-Hannah

27

when the house came together in
four parts. the stairs met on
the landing. it was 1992
and i was five years-old.

all the walls were white.
there was a small space
between the couches and the wall
with one painting.

by 1998 everything changed
the walls stayed standing.
-Hannah



In one year's time, one person's absence has
Surfaced up years of suppressed opinions
Bad blood swallowed in order to keep peace
Is still bad blood, it doesn't go away

So busy pointing critical fingers
Defensiveness fades into bitterness
And then there is rewriting history
"Where were you?" "How could you?" "Why didn't you?"

After one year it isn't possible
To come all together in her memory
Pride is so destructive, it makes us blind
Volatile words further divide

Forgetting how much we need each other
Not even sure how we got to this point
-KM