On Memorial

There you stood, eye to the photograph looking at theplace you're in without you. Am I feeling elegiacor algebraic again. A violence from within protectsfrom a violence without. What it is is what elseit is, an opening between one black and another black,moth legs scrambling about the frame of my window tonight,out-and-out rain. Am I writing this to be as opaqueas possible. Please rewind, they used to say.How my mind of switchback of jackknife does in awe,lockjaw. It can happen anywhere. Outside, whereso many things hover, wait to come in. The night,where sight ends and the body goes in. You cleared a space:I ask you to come in.