Two Days
i.
The sky closes
like a case
this Holy Saturday
not the drama
of darkness at noon
but plane and plate
dull metal
and dust plodding
into heavy evening
Once there were days
of fire in heaven
fire on our tongues
and we sang like the morning
Better never
to have had those days
than to have had them
once
ii.
There is a little fire
at the edge of the world
all else is dark
Our steps
clutter the stillness
The way leads
to the dark heart
of grief
My hair
drags like memory
I remember
the flames in the brazier
like thorns
I thought I had
no tears left
but mourning is
eternal
I am no self
but sorrow.
And shame.
My name.
Stir of two sounds.
I lift my head.
And I am
the new sun rising.