i wake up confused
for what?
must have been the third time
in as many months
that i’ve caught myself
uncontrollably
weeping and wailing
in the depths of my dreams,
feeling
an insatiable sorrow
about things of which
i have no understanding
or control.
when i open my eyes
there are no tears but
only an emptiness,
an uncertainty
lingering in the shadows
filled with the mournful
sound of
my brother Paul
as a boy being broken
in hell’s basement.
later,
as i walk my dog,
i contemplate
the intensity of the father,
the peace of the dead,
and the horror of the living.
