Evenings of sovereign clarity—
Wine and bread on the table,
Father naked in bed.
Was I that skinny boy stretched out
In the field behind the house,
His heart cut out with a toy knife?
Was I the crow hovering over him?
Happiness, you are the bright red lining
Of the dark winter coat
Grief wears inside out.
This is about myself when I’m remembering,
And your long insomniac’s nails,
O Time, I keep chewing and chewing.