-the old woman from Kentucky-




the old man was licked by his dog

in the dark, on the bed, at the heels of his feet.


the old woman didn’t like his chawin' in bed
from the old man's mail-pouch, 

mustardbrown clung to the mouth's edge,

tucked in the fleshy wall of his cheek.

but then

with those loose teeth


pages of her years
fan fast —

rock-grey 

loneliness stays that way a long time.

she crawls underneath the bedsheet at night

dog licking the heels of her feet sticking out

says it’s OK in the dark——
her old man missed it that night,

against the dark-sharpness of the mine-wall. 

her old man dropped-dead sitting like that —

missed the canary's belly-up attitude in the firedamp. 

but the dog’s lickin' away,

don’t know the difference one foot from th'other.

salty heelskin

tastes good at the tongue-board,

long as the silence of the dark moves the old- 
woman's loneliness — 
finds its comfort on the road to home that way.




                                      for Frieda / Wellston, Ohio