December 1, 2020 | Poetry
In the beginning there was only the girl
and the ocean. Someone was telling a story;
in the story a girl’s friend died, an accident,
so she walked into the sea, breathed
i got rid of my pack rat tendencies
and spread all the feathers
When I heard the name, I was sure it held a deeper meaning. No, she said, laughing... She explained that the knot combines the features of a reef knot, a thief knot, and a granny knot. It’s a portmanteau, not a metaphor. Grief has no meaning, she said.
Last Christmas, you asked for my latest address and sent a postcard all the way from Paris. There was a close-up shot of Hemingway’s face on the front. On the back, you wrote: “You deserve all the good in the world.” I took a picture of it but never sent anything back.