they are all men now and each has taken his turn hauling the sad figure up the stairs
commentary:
I have also seen this inner structure of ancestral bonds, each fiber having the color of pain passing between father and son and on through to grandsons
I understand that it is whole that it is pure that I lose this view when I am in it, pulling against the weight of this old man's body that I am carrying
oracle
I.
weve run together for days, the poles chafing our shoulders— we've had no choice but to champion our mother over the dirt path toward the stone house
the road is narrowing as the weeds rush by snapping in the spokes— run faster, the wheels are turning the secret from her and the sun is scorching our backs
II.
contrary to legend, the brothers never died from exhaustion nor from Apollo's quixotic mercy but they did sleep well for two nights as their mother rambled on in the dark