CONNECTION Comments

The muffling telephone made your voice
even softer than you like to be,
copy, aspire to be.

Oh, for months, you said, those blind doubts
about ringing you. Neither you nor I
was there wholly by chance that night.

Silence. I assess the furious doggedness
with which you rediscover my body
and carry it, drag it there.

If need be, you said, I'll call again tomorrow.
You waffle a bit about an emptiness that's
easily sent awry.

Lay me next to you. Sometimes I still
dream of children of yours, as in a game.
Beautiful faces that cry.
...
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