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Cannonball

I remember her as sweet
and small and blonde -
wrapped in a protective
sense of humor, from a family
of thin heartbreaking women
with high cheekbones,
tiny noses and large breasts.
I was married for a short time
to one of her relations -
part of the reason
I very nearly died young.

And her life has lost its meaning -
she says she finds
so little reason to go on,
and jokes she always had
a crush on me,
though she was just a child
when I saw her last.

No, I did see her briefly
later on -
very tan, very pregnant,
still very young -
passing quickly through town -
and I bought a rebuilt battery
for her car,
ans she was gone.

And she is unattached
and so lonely now
she tells me on the phone
and asks I come and stay
with her a while, just a few days
and talk about old times.
And I cannot help but go
though if I could
I'd leave my heart behind

So I have to find a way
to wrap my heart up
carefully in something
like gold foil,
like that special chocolate in the box
you save for last -
though if the past is prelude,
and with me it always is

I might as well
stuff it down the barrel now
and light the fuse and
back away, send it
winging over the wall -
cut the suspense,
find out if it can take it
one more time.

She's not so strong
as she once thought, she says
and I tell her in all honesty
I understand.



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