The Day When the Familiar in My Life Changed

THE DAY WHEN THE FAMILIAR
IN MY LIFE CHANGED

I returned to find not what I expected,
her skirt spread out on the white floor,
her handkerchief with recent tears,
and a liquid the color of Rhine wine
in a puddle, a black lace brassiere,
and a suicide note in calligraphic script.

Instead, I found a silence,
not the usual turmoil,
A silence like a silence seething
with past seastorms.
A silence with the salt scent of a seaside.

Her picture on the piano had changed.
She now painted her eyelids with kohl.
I had a strange feeling that I had left
a land of buluppu trees, had gone
to a land of cedars. But actually,
I had only driven a few miles from my work.

I looked outside, nothing had changed.
It was the same. The old man next door
combed over and over his white hair.
With many strokes combed his white beard,
hoping to please the harlot
with his good looks when she came in
tight amaranthine to make a house call.

I sat with Shiraz, touched my face, no skin,
but feathers. I was feathered like a bird
and had wings. I flew up onto the door sill,
surveyed my room. It was now
a beautiful and wild tropical forest.


Duane Locke

Posted over on Plum Ruby Review