Reinhard F. Hahn

[To Reinhard F. Hahn’s index]

I Can Picture Her Now

I can picture her now
about to know another
knowing and still bemused by
her new autonomy, anatomy
without handbag and coat,

waiting, looking nervously,
ready to jump at the call,
eager to be no trouble, to blend in,
not yet fully aware of the
imminent otherness.

This time she won’t need
any of those bilingual cards
I had made for her single long trip,
cards that opened VIP lounges
en route to my antipodes.

She had steadfastly clung
to her prism of familiarity
when facing the wildly unfamiliar,
naming it meat-and-potatoes
or eat-up-now.

Is she now aware that
at the home she has abandoned
the commonplace persists,
like bread roll deliveries
and rotting leafs,

and that she has left behind this
unsurprisingly open-ended finality,
all that blank space—
cleverly placed
silence?

[To Reinhard F. Hahn’s index]