Druthers

By Sherrie Cassel

I hear it; it tinkles like ice

in your glass, like broken

glass. The sound of

shattering people is

the earworm that

makes me wish I were

deaf.

********

Ah, but then … who will

hold the sound of our

dissonant collaboration, and

for how long?

********

Some stories

don’t need to be told.

Some stories never need

to be told.

********

Would I take the shaking

hands, and the broken

soul only to hear the tinkling

again?

********

I watched you wither away

like a dried up leaf, increasing our

fire danger to high in our Santa Ana

winds.

********

I’m remembering one Thanksgiving.

Laughter serenaded our festivities.

There were other times it didn’t.

********

Sometimes, yeah, sometimes,

We skated together, gracefully,

and sometimes,

I drove you away.

********

Brain cells and booze,

and … now …

I’m lost without you, but no,

If you are at peace, then as much as

I miss you, I will rest in the knowledge

that you are no longer in pain.

********

Mommas and Poppas find peace

eventually. I have.

********

Whether you are or you are not.

If there is to be any closure,

if there can be…I will do my best to

stay at the party…even if you are not

here.

********

My very life blood.

My reason for living.

********

I will. I will hang in there, and as

the seasons change from the

sizzling heat of a summer in

the desert to the sweet chill of

winter, I will wish you were here.

********

I’ll wait for the spring, holding my

breath because another year will

have passed and soon, yes, very soon,

ten years will have passed. Ten.

********

You ached in your soul, and so,

ten years later, I’m starting to

understand why you wanted to

leave, why you needed to leave.

********

No! It should not have been you.

You are a prince, my Aztec and Native

Warrior.

********

I’m going to picture you on your best day

here, and be grateful that I can still remember

your face, your voice, your laughter,

and fuck the tinkling ice.

You were so much more than that.