Wild and heaving, I
Strip the room of its contents
with the violence of a young fawn
learning to stand.
Limbs fling glass and furniture to the floor,
where it shatters and lies
open like a question.

Oh how I loved him, young man of twenty two,
Not entirely at home in his old-fashioned clothes
and inherited beliefs.
We were only children when we searched
through fields and under leaves
for the face of god.

Arms wrap heavy around me like swaddling
--or a pall
As I shake and claw at that
impossibly blue sky.