Parting
(Regarding the homeless man from Yawkey Way)

When I returned in late summer and scanned the crowd,
threaded my eyes between people and
he was not there, my stomach knotted. 
 
I could see rope and metal lowering a coffin. 
 
If I could believe that he had stood up,
had gripped the ground with his feet and 
had formed normalcy on his tongue,
 
then I could allow him to sink back down, and
parting would not be so cheap,
would not taste like being punched.
 
 

Emelye’s Prayer

I imagine that sometime before the morning,
sometime before she bathed and prayed in the temple,
sometime before she offered up the words,
I be no love ne wyf,[1]
only to receive a flickering of flames,
 
I imagine that she considered going to Ypolita,
kneeling on the cold floor and grasping her hand.
 
Like holding onto snow, though, it would be useless,
and only Dyane’s chilling words could answer,
however contrarily and poorly, her prayer.  


[1] I have no desire to be a wife (Geoffrey Chaucer, The Canterbury Tales, The Knight’s Tale, Line 2306).

© Jennifer LeBlanc

 

Jennifer LeBlanc is an English major at Regis College, concentrating in secondary education.  Her chapbook, unrestrained, is forthcoming from Cervena Barva Press.