From Kentucky
Melodies
The failure of
intimacy leads to abuse, but abuse takes many forms, not all of them physically
violent.
What Was Buried By the Tree?
He could see it in his mind's eye.
An old pin oak shadowing over the bare bones
of brown earth
in the middle of the yard.
He could see her standing motionlessly,
staring out the kitchen window at the spot.
No trace of emotion flicks
across her face,
nor across her soul,
that dubious entity
that in an older culture
acted as
a magic cipher
for what she was.
Her lips are slightly pursed,
the little vertical lines around the mouth
long since permanently engraved by ancient habit.
Her back is ramrod straight
like a diminutive drill sergeant,
her clothes excessively tidy.
"Beverly!" demands the cigarette coarse voice in the next
room.
She stands absolutely still, the lines around her mouth deepening
slightly.
"Beverly, dammit!" rasps the voice.
Her mouth relaxes.
She smiles slightly and picks up a china saucer and
holds it at arm’s length over the sink.
"Beverly, dammit, answer when I call you!"
She lets the saucer drop.
It hits the empty sink with a tremendous crash and
fragments into a thousand pieces.
"Beverly, What the hell ? . . ,"
The sound is lost
in the roar of the garbage disposal
as she sweeps the pieces down the drain.
"Yes, Joe", she says sweetly,
"Did you want something."
What
Was Buried By the Tree?
He
could see it in his mind's eye.
An
old pin oak shadowing over the bare bones
of
brown earth
in
the middle of the yard.
He
could see her standing motionlessly,
staring
out the kitchen window at the spot.
No
trace of emotion flicks
across
her face,
nor
across her soul,
that
dubious entity
that
in an older culture
acted
as
a
magic cipher
for
what she was.
Her
lips are slightly pursed,
the
little vertical lines around the mouth
long
since permanently engraved by ancient habit.
Her
back is ramrod straight
like
a diminutive drill sergeant,
her
clothes excessively tidy.
"Beverly!"
demands the cigarette coarse voice in the next room.
She
stands absolutely still, the lines around her mouth deepening slightly.
"Beverly,
dammit!" rasps the voice.
Her
mouth relaxes.
She
smiles slightly and picks up a china saucer and
holds
it at arms length over the sink.
"Beverly,
dammit, answer when I call you!"
She
lets the saucer drop.
It
hits the empty sink with a tremendous crash and
fragments
into a thousand pieces.
"Beverly,
What the hell ? . . ,"
The
sound is lost
in
the roar of the garbage disposal
as
she sweeps the pieces down the drain.
"Yes,
Joe", she says sweetly,
"Did
you want something?"
You can order the book at: https://www.tatepublishing.com/bookstore/book.php?w=978-1-63122-852-0
