parenthetical

parenthetical 

so I've been thinking a lot recently
about holidays and humbuggery and grief-as-echo,
a lasting resonance that follows you
but also hums reassuring to others in meeting

and more so on these special days --
days with more significance, somehow
we need protective layers, diffidence, sweaters
(made by hands to extend an embrace) 

and the busy trap and email and the coldness of space 
(so many messages hurtling through, bleeping 
demands or attesting sweet nothings)
competing with the cadence of now

and sleep (why do we lie here)
and the fading of the light (rage!)
and the turning of the seasons and burning of the colors
always this same flash against the gray that follows
(what would we do without fall)

and kindness and gentleness
(the intentionality of brushing shoulders)
and silliness and joy (how laughing can ache)
and costumes (a man dressed as a fish
making eyes at a rocket ship sidling by)

and love, and narratives, 
this one tied to her, that pulse
a beat strong between you,
and you inexplicably orbit them, in loops
while he soars in an uninhibited trajectory
unrelated, so he thinks
(for now)

and mitzvahs, generosity as a 
command and a blessing
you must be good
(you really must try)



november 2015, copyright sarah hirsch