This Too Many Times
for Sally and Wes
This too many times—I took from my daughter,
who said it when frustrated, as she tried to figure
a puzzle, or to open the gate we put up to keep
and Wes, her twin, temporarily out of the locus
of our lives.
In turn, they shook that gate without mercy
off pieces of ancient wallpaper, so that, before
to sell our little house, I tried nailing plywood over
not having enough money (or skills) to replace it.
Sally's words as a child have burrowed a tunnel
in my mind,
like a song-worm, ever since Jane died seven years