Friday, December 01, 2006


Tania Rochelle

Anna Bell and Lane, eighty,
make small leaf piles in the heat,
each pile a great joint effort,
like fifty years of marriage,
sharing chores a rusty dance.
In my own yard, the stacks
are big as children, who scatter them,
dodge and limbo the poke
of my rake. We’re lucky,
young and straight-boned.
And I feel sorry for the couple,
bent like parentheses
around their brittle little lawn.
I like feeling sorry for them,
the tenderness of it, but only
for a moment: John glides in
like a paper airplane, takes
the children for the weekend,
and I remember,
they’re the lucky ones —
shriveled Anna Bell, loving
her crooked Lane.

Reproduced from Karaoke Funeral
by Tania Rochelle (Snake Nation Press, 2003)

ROCHELLE Tania [1963-] Poet. Born in the Philippines. Poetry Karaoke Funeral (2003)


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