In the dining room your sisters swathed in noxious bonnets, so similar in dress...
You make the rounds of aimless routine.
Tests and treatment.
A coalescing of mourning rags adorned with a splendid array of articles.
Preceded by the smell of camphor, cedar, a mass of floor-length skirts dragged...
Formaldehyde skin pulled tight behind a gauzy veil.
The parlour folds, the second floor and attic succumbing to a not insubstantial...
You spend these quiet years unravelling.
Lungs drought-baked draw dry breaths of dust.
Bone-deep damp laps at walls and windows.
Countryside patina collects unevenly.
Delivered from a crisis of common names, you ripen with the first blush of...
To hell with garden boundaries.
Fired soils crack as ancient stoneware.