Old Dogs, and: Chiaroscuro, and: Every Leaving Jane Sasser (bio) OLD DOGS Over millennia, water and silicaseep into cells, until woodbecomes stone. So it seems as wellin all too brief a time, cellby cell, old dogs turninto sweetness, faces bleachedlike ghosts, bones brittle and sharpas fallen sticks, until all that remainsis the slow thump of loveand tail. Surely that weightin our hearts is stone, the worknot of eras but daysand weeks, old dogs like quartzin our petrified memory. [End Page 116] CHIAROSCURO The shadow you cast is a darknessin which we all flounder, wishwe knew more than the outlineof your life, black and white photoswe shuffle through, glimpsesthat leave us to guess: you,in a white shirt and cotton ducksrolled up, crossing Rocky Riverto church in the johnboat you calledthe bateau. From the overhanging branchesat the shore, your paddle raisedin morning light, a snake siftsfrom a tree, circles your arm,sloughs to the water below.Or you, home from the war,crutches in hand, missing a stepon concrete stairs, how you spilledthrough bright air, made the choiceto swing your mending legs to spareyour heavy head, how when you hitand rolled, you felt them snap again.Or you, driving a bus through the dark,that time—so tired—you followed white lineup an exit and sat and wonderedhow you'd come to this place, and howyou drove that bus down and back into night. [End Page 117] EVERY LEAVING is a death,even the ones I thinkI desired, the packingof wool sweaters for morning walksthrough falling leavesto college classes,or boxes numbered and taped for the move froma long-loved home,or holiday guestswho crowded our rooms, towels and plates piledin the wake of flurried goodbyes,whose absence nowis a haunting lack. In January darkso cold it could breaklike actual iceI will drop you for your flight,driving to workand trying to thinkof my students, who [End Page 118] will shuffle to classin their wool sweaters,dimly aware of their ownlooming leavings, and you will be somewhere overhead,soaring through dawn,back to the lifeyou have chosen as yours. [End Page 119] Jane Sasser Jane Sasser has published poems in the The Sun, North American Review, Journal of the American Medical Association, and others. She has two poetry chapbooks, Recollecting the Snow (March Street Press, 2008) and Itinerant (Finishing Line Press, 2009). She recently retired from teaching English at Oak Ridge High School. Copyright © 2019 Berea College
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Jan 11, 2021
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