BOUGH
When the bough broke,
As it eventually does,
It was just the beginning.
To admit hell paid us a visit,
From the tumult and confusion,
Understates the overall chaos.
But we had to pretend, of course,
Wear the masks around the house,
Although Halloween had passed;
Trick the treat into believing
We could rebuild the limb
Through patient tenacity.
And you know the story…
Long drawn out sighs—
The hows, whens, and whys—
One disguise after another,
Until we found nothing standing,
Not even a tree in the forest.
Bart Edelman’s poetry collections include Crossing the Hackensack, Under Damaris’ Dress, The Alphabet of Love, The Gentle Man, The Last Mojito, The Geographer’s Wife, Whistling to Trick the Wind, and This Body Is Never at Rest: New and Selected Poems 1993 – 2023, forthcoming from Meadowlark Press.
