THE NATURE OF YEARNING
David Huddle
American History
Young, they meet and tell each other
everything, exchanging childhoods,
as members of different tribes
present gifts at their first meeting
to signal their desire for peace.
The boy grew up with hog-killing,
had a knife-fight in high school,
jumped from airplanes in Germany,
and interrogated farmers
who denied they were Viet Cong.
The girl knew about monsoon heat.
In college she'd gone to India
for a month and stopped being the girl
who spent summers at the club, swimming
and playing tennis with her sister.
Talking this way, he sees her life
as what he was raised to want.
She sees his as the struggle
she's been denied. Her tenderness
comes freely; he wills his into shape.
Years later, when they are raising
children, the woman can't always
remember not to tease the man
with a kitchen knife in her hand,
and the man still hasn't learned
how to chat politely at parties.
But they don't mind remembering how
when they first met, he couldn't hear enough
about her birthday sleepovers,
nor she about his fucked-up army pals.
____________
Quiet Hour
Sometimes after dinner
they dawdle long after
the kids have excused
themselves. Then their
talk pleases them, what
her boss told her today,
a small thing he repaired,
something a teacher said
to their oldest. Tonight
it would be easy to ask,
When should we separate?
Who'll stay in the house?
How are we going to share
the children? She could
say, Do you know how hard
it's been living with you
all these years hating you
so much? He could tell her
he's thought of leaving
every day. From the air
they could pluck these words,
then maybe the forgiving ones
would come, too, I know
I haven't been, you did
the best you, and we tried,
we really, or maybe what came
would be the deeply bitter
you son of a, you goddamn.
So the words they choose
for these last moments
of sputtering candlelight
hold the weight of their
separate lifetimes, what
future their children may
expect, and finally whether
death will be cruel or kind
to them: I guess I'd
better do these dishes. No,
you're tired, I'll do them,
you just stay put.
_________________
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
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