Martha Silano

The blooming

had given way to what comes after. What comes after.
The huckleberries that were plump and sweet
now dry on the tongue. I noticed the leaves

were turning red, were red. A hike on a dry, rocky trail
I asked you about Teddy, whether the fall to his death
was an accident, to remind me

how it happened. He went up a ridge. They found his body
a hundred feet below. I let that fact
hang in the air.

Do you think he might have found out the day before
he was terminal?  I mean, he was so fit, so agile.
Teddy would be the last person I’d expect…

but no, he said, Teddy wasn’t that kind of a guy,
to make his friends go looking for him.
What comes after.

We calculate the time we have left, assume it’s a die-of-old-age
situation. But Teddy. He was our age. Sitting
with that knowing we might not have

thirty years. Pretty much everything
but the asters had gone to seed.
A few lupine blooms,

a shock of fireweed along a granite ridge. I hated
passing under the powerlines, buzzing
as if they were alive.

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Martha Silano is the author of five books of poetry, including Gravity Assist, Reckless Lovely, and The Little Office of the Immaculate Conception, all from Saturnalia Books. She is also co-author of The Daily Poet: Day-By-Day Prompts For Your Writing Practice (Two Sylvias Press). Martha’s poems have appeared in Paris Review, Poetry, American Poetry Review, and in the Best American Poetry series, among others. Honors include North American Review’s James Hearst Poetry Prize and The Cincinnati Review’s Robert and Adele Schiff Award in Poetry. She teaches at Bellevue College, near her home in Seattle, WA. Learn more about Martha and her work at marthasilano.net.