MERIDIAN

The day seemed suddenly to give to black-&-white

The falcon tearing at the glove

Clare yanking down the hood over its banked eyes

& handing the bird

Its body still rippling & shuddering & flecked

Here or there with blood

to her son Louis

& as we walked back up the overgrown stone trail

To the castle now in the public trust

For tax reasons she admitted

Supposing one more turn in the grave couldn’t harm

Her father the Count much at this point anyway

Though she flew his favorite red flag

From one of the towers every year

To mark the anniversary of his death

& though her beauty had acquired the sunken

Sheen of a ship’s figurehead lifted

From the clear Mediterranean

As she walked ahead of me in her high chocolate boots

I could think only of her body still muscled like a

Snake’s & how she lay sprawled last night

Naked on the blue tiles of the bathroom floor

& as I stepped into the doorway

I could see the bathtub speckled with vomit

The syringe still hanging limply from a vein in her

Thigh & she was swearing

As she grasped for the glass vial

That had rolled out of reach behind the toilet

Then she had it

Drawing herself up slowly as she

Turned her body slightly to look up at me

& she said nothing

Simply waiting until I turned & walked away

The door closing with its soft collapse

Behind me

now over lunch on the terrace

I pin a small sprig of parsley to her jacket lapel

A kind of truce a soldier’s decoration

& above us the sun drags the day toward its meridian

Of heat & red wine & circumstance from which

We can neither look back nor step ever

Visibly beyond yet as we

Look at each other in the brash eclipsing glare

We know what bridging silence to respect

Now that neither of us has the heart to care