Listening Long and Late

the room was dark

51 the room was dark The room was dark, but light shone beneath the door. A radio was playing from the bedroom across the hall—a dance band from the early ’40s. He opened his door and saw his mother in her flannel pajamas and hairnet, looking as she did when still alive. She was walking away from him, down the hallway. Wait! he said, and she looked back and smiled but did not stop. At the end of the hallway she entered a room and closed the door behind her. But when he followed her, she was not there. The room was empty except for a metal table and a glass filled with matchstick bones, like those of a bird or tiny animal. What ends goes on ending, he thought, waking into his grief. ...