Parting

She was already lean when

a stroke or two slapped

her face like drawn

claw prints: akilter, she

ate less and

sat too much on the edge

of beds looking a width too

wide out of windows:

she lessened: getting

out for a good day, she sat

on the bench still and

thin as a porch post:

the children are all

off, she would think, but a

moment later,

startle, where are the children,

as if school had let

out: her husband watched

her till loosened away himself

for care: then,

seeming to know but never

quite sure, she was put in

a slightly less hopeful

setting: she watched her

husband tremble in to call

and shoot up high head-bent

eyes: her mind

flashed clear through, she was

sure of it, she had seen

that one before: her husband

longed to say goodbye or else

hello, but the room stiffened

as if two lovers had just caught

on sight, every move rigid

misfire in that perilous fire.