The Affair

The Affair

Before the kite plunges down into the wood

and this line goes useless

take in your two hands, boys, and feel

the strumming, rooted, long-tailed pull of grief.

You were born fit for it.

Stand in here in front of me

and take the strain.

                        Seamus Heaney

            “A Kite for Michael and Christopher”

What if?  what if the one grieving shouldn’t

or can’t?  What, when the news comes and the wife

scrubbing supper pots has her back to you

and there’s a shade pulled half-way

down the kitchen window so anyone walking

by this time of night will only see a flash

of apron white – torso – and then the frying pan,

a disc of something rising.

When news like that arrives nobody knows it’s you

nobody knows it’s really true but you, nobody

heard you screw the bolt back into the cold

cellar door, where you took her, the eyes

of the potatoes sprouting white, and there in the low

bin, broking, soon oozing, time after time

oozing, until the threads are stripped, until

you need a new lag entirely and take one

from the attic closet door, or not take, but replace,

exchange – So when you hear your wife say (and her

posture is every thread your heart’s pulled

by now) that Clara’s girl went and killed

herself, now imagine that, all that family’s

been through, poor Clara, and yes Callie too

although remember it’s been almost ten years,

remember that last day of school, she helped

all those kids in the boat…

and nodding to the pan you see her turn and as though

she’s cocked a hammer back, raise it up

just enough – poor girl – poor girl – guess

Clara will take the daughter in.  All that family’s been

through.  It’s a damn shame, a damn shame would

you say, and pregnant too, did you hear that,

and not her husbands, did you hear that,

but isn’t that the way of it all don’t you think?

You nod.  You watch the pot.  You nod and offer

to hang it above the stove.  And you take it.

Take it all.  Suspend it.  Handle and bottom

above the fire and decide: tomorrow, tomorrow

you’ll clean out all that seed potato.  Rub the roots

off each and every one by one by one.