It’s better to want nothing
more than a voice
to say what is sweet
what is sacred
but not what you can’t say.
The sky & earth sundered
diamond dust froze
for a child to speak at home.
Say what you must to the house
where your parents live/d
even if it’s not the same
door you remember.
The former house hears you
the land remembers all
buildings, homes, temples
and never forgets a foot
that traipsed over its face.
I’ve forgotten what I said
I wanted to tell you
but no matter
the wind says it for me
the wind says it for you
to know a secret
weather holds.
It’s raining again and on
your birthday
droplets are heavy.
Your lover has left you
an umbrella.
From Hereafter (The Song Cave, 2024) by Alan Felsenthal. Copyright © 2024 by Alan Felsenthal. Used with the permission of the publisher.