The heart breaks and breaks and lives by breaking. It is necessary to go through dark and deeper dark and not to turn. ~ Stanley Kunitz

Today I want to share a poem I wrote many years ago, about a year after I moved in with the young man who would become my children’s father, who would later lose himself in shattered dreams so completely that he would never be found again. I’m thinking about what I’ve learned, what more there is to learn, wondering how we continue to put our trust in another person’s fragile hands, so willingly, so hungrily – we love. We give ourselves over to something that is as beautiful as it is devestating, thinking perhaps this time we can get it right.


The day we took an axe to the wall
we were young, and it was

We took turns swinging
we were laughing and kissing
until we put the tool aside
and began tearing it apart,
grabbing pieces of sheetrock
with our hands

Then we brought in
my mattress and his amp
papers and notebooks and pens
his electric, my acoustic
magazines and books

It was only us then
and the mornings were grey
we slept in each other’s dreams
until mid-afternoon
and began learning what it meant
to love.


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