Carnage

A shallow hole by the side of some road

Wet, running, loose mud spread across

Heavy rain is washing it away

And I can see your gray hand, dull and limp

A broken finger, an ugly scratch

 

You’re gone, missing in the dark of winter

How would I know?

I didn’t talk to you anymore

Or even spare a thought to think of your face

While you lived just forty miles away

 

Dad didn’t like you, so

I didn’t like you either

You were a thief, an addict, a liar

Stealing heirlooms for money

Money to buy something bad

 

Too many boyfriends to count

Meeting a different one every month

Working at a trashy bar

Not a good influence

For a little girl

 

What is real? What is true?

Now the past is sometimes rose-colored

I try to remember your laugh

The gifts you gave me

Your joy and kindness and dances

 

If I hear your name

The surprise jolts through me

I see the mud, the man walking his dog,

The rain, the broken finger, the black road

A memory I’ve never seen