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The Wall
by Janet Leister

I saw you today
at the marble wall
the flower cup empty
and I can only wonder
how you came to be in this place

I remember you hunting,
mud on your boots
the bow slung over your shoulder
as you tramped through the damp wooded hillside

the acrid smell of pitch
while you made your own arrows
patiently and intently
lining up the feathers just so
and after success, the deer hanging
while you gutted it

once you tried to jump over the waterfall
but instead you slipped and fell a hundred miles
into the cold rushing water
pounding you against the rocks
yet still you made it home in your rattling truck

how then did you end up here
cold and alone in this drawer
just one of so many others
in identical drawers?

someday Dad when I have money
I will take you out of this marble shoebox
and purify the shell that used to be you
I will take your ashes back to the river
back to the woods
where you belong

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