What We See In The Mirror Is That What The Mirror Eye Sees?, and: Love Poem To My Brother The Lawyer, and: The Sharing
Rent from DeepDyve- What We See In The Mirror Is That What The Mirror Eye Sees?*, and: Love Poem To My Brother The Lawyer, and: The Sharing
What We See In The Mirror Is That What The Mirror Eye Sees?*
A woman is looking into a mirrora man appears in the mirrorthey look at each otherdeep intoeachother in the mirrorthe man disappearsthe mirror disappears
A woman lies sleepingdreaming about a mirrorthat she is looking into a mirrorthat she sees a manthey look at each othereachother in the mirrorthe man disappearsthe mirror disappears
The woman awakesWho did she seedid she hold
deep in the mirror
When the ashes were being gathered after the cremation peoplenoticed the glass which had been melted into a shapeless mass* [End Page 148]
From its niche the urnshe liftsemptyingher breath on hisashes he risessurprised wide openmouth parcheda workingfurnace she puts her head in
she can’t see
Footnotes
* The Moon on the Water, Yasunari Kawabata
Love Poem To My Brother The Lawyer
How the wordstickled our earsplayed upon our tonguessometimes stuck in our throatsfatherat the head of the tableon every subjectwe listenedwe readthe books of his libraryour worlda world of wordsNow we have his bookson the shelves of our librarieshis wordspenned in the marginsNow you throw a lasso around your words [End Page 149] you pull it tightNow I my words are rubber bands their shapesalways on the way—tickling our ears still playing upon our tonguesdifferent and yet
The Sharing for my husband
There is a photo of herat Hachiogilighting incense at his grave
she washes the monumentthe family nameSakane in calligraphyand the other smaller oneEisakushe rubs with a clothgentlylike fleshplaces the flowers in their holderspulls a few weedsFinished.fills the wooden ladleanointing the stone,I am poured out like waterand all my bones are scattered*I’m reading herthoughts I do not uttershe lights stick after stickI keep reading,My beloved is gone [End Page 150] down into his gardento the bed of aromatic spices*she praysI cannot see her face
There is a photo of melighting incense at his graveI wanted to see where his ashesAl-san and Doris-san are hereto see youa tone so natural it seems he’s waiting here at Hachiogi I lightspring and fall when he camehe brought photos of his familyour kids called him Uncle
Tommy (Americans can’t say Eisaku)the two sat up latethe gaslight at the cornerblinking to stay awakethey played Warri talking until the scotchand the Englishgave out
My beloved is gone …She sent Al his raincoatin its pocket the Tokyo Expresswaytoll ticket.Here at Hachiogifor one momentEarth stopped its rotationstick after stick after stick [End Page 151]
Footnotes
* The Song of Songs
Doris Radin’s poems have appeared in the Nation, Massachusetts Review, New Letters, Confrontation, and many other places. Her book is There are Talismans (Saturday P). She has been awarded two fellowship grants from the New Jersey Council of the Arts.
