last time

"As you can see, the fin de siècle…"
Eventually I slip away from
the tour group
and wander out into the castle courtyard.
The grounds have not been tended
for years –
Ninety minus forty-five years, exactly.

I take
out a cigarette, because I am learning
to be European. A plume of
smoke says,
"I have never been so lonely,"
but in fact I was much
lonelier, once,
on the tenth floor and I did not jump then.

My
heart is harder now; burned to brittle.
I have a great deal less to
lose.
From the balcony above me a girl is crying
and her mother's
clenched voice scolds,
"Stop this instant or I'll give you something
to cry about."

3 responses to “last time”

  1. Is that you, with the burned brittle heart?
    I hate that a mother would say that. I may fail as a mother in many ways but I never say that.

  2. O – It’s a mash-up and distortion, but basically it’s me. I thought I was as emotionally burned as I could be when I got here, and spent a lot of time smoking cigarettes in untended gardens, castle and otherwise.
    I heard that sentence more than once in a pediatric cancer ward. I understand parenting stress and pain but I can’t imagine being driven to that anger.

  3. I came to this blog by accident, but I found very interesting. Greetings to all who visit here.

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