Contributor Notes

Barbara Hendryson

Now That You Are Gone, You Are Everywhere

Now that you are gone, you are everywhere.
Take this orchid, for instance,
its swollen lip, the scrawny stalkís one
descended testicleÖ --J.D. Mc Clatchy: Orchid

How did you escape the fast hold of my arms?
Were you not supposed to be locked into position?
Like a blank thing that takes meaning from my every gesture?
How fabulous that you have found light beyond me.
Oh, donít misunderstand me, I admire your blatant fortitude.
And, as it turns out, I donít mind being here without you.
Itís just that everything you left behind bears your imprint.
Like this bed, for instance, how you furrowed the one side.
And the knives you liked to wave at the side of my head.
Not that I minded, you understand: that was your playfulness.
As were the slur of words you flung at the dog.
Who doesnít miss you at all, I have to admit.
Still, there was something about you: a glint, a shine.
Like scissors jabbing away at paper dolls.