Parabolic

September in Upper Turkeyfoot

The light that happens in September

When at last we broke our promises,

How much further could we bend ?

Firewood stacked and drying in the shed,

Floating cobwebs catching sunlight

Post to post along the cabin porch,

Sunlight silver in the hemlocks' open arms,

Sunlight gilding tiers of oaks

When you said divorce,

Sunlight bending through the glass

To where you'd stood, once upon a time,

At Webster's Second on its stand,

Golden head-to-toe and unabridged,

Such light we'd known

Now tangent to the afternoon,

Now bending toward the void.