My husband, who brought sun to my moon, died just now.I know I must kiss his brow before coldness sets in and then listen to Mendelssohn’s Preludes and Fugues, not Midsummer Night’s Dream, as we did together.

Afterwards, I’ll make the call and wait for them to take his body, with flashing lights and bold siren song.

Later I shall place one plate out for supper and mix taro with maize—something I’ve not done—and watch ochre-colored butter run down the patterned rivers of my best blue willow china.

This evening I’ll lay my head upon his pillow, before his scent fades.

Tomorrow I will wake from a dream, knowing I can only be with him there, and face the nightmare of daylight without him.

I’ll brace myself for solitary confinement and I shall welcome fugues, where fractured reveries build into a crescendo of voices inside my head.

Zetetic separator

—Chris Drew resides between the Olympic Rain Forest and the Cascade mountain range, also using the Puget Sound as inspiration to write about causes, with a bent towards magical realism.

7 Responses

  1. Ani King
    at · Reply

    Lovely and sad and moving – such a compelling piece.

  2. CJ Jessop
    CJ Jessop
    at · Reply

    Beautiful, moving, and full of love. The sense of a lifetime shared in one short piece.

  3. Daniel Lind
    Daniel Lind
    at · Reply

    Absolutely beautiful.

  4. Louis Rakovich
    at · Reply

    Beautiful. Short and powerful.

  5. Jennifer Todhunter
    Jennifer Todhunter
    at · Reply

    A wonderful and moving piece.

  6. Rebecca N. McKinnon
    at · Reply

    “face the nightmare of daylight without him”


  7. David Lerner
    David Lerner
    at · Reply

    Really, really good. Bravo.

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