Peter A. Weinberg – Poetry

An old black door
   swings back and forth
   no reason, just the breezes
   open and shut

She found her other in him
   deep in the netherworld of self
   so sweet
   so complete

Now she knows:
   “what was flesh is now sand
   what was blood is dust”

The doctor said:
   “If he’s still alive after the weekend
   give us a call”

Somewhere in a place
   between waking and sleep
      she’d retreat
I hope, in those moments,
         with him

back and forth
   here again
   though his lips have changed
   they are the same lips
   though his eyes have changed
   they are the same eyes

open and shut without reason
   the way two old lovers
   long parted,
   still feel a tug
   whenever they cross

Tell his boys, he said this last thing:

“We had a lot of fun here
we had a lot of fun in New York”

-February 9, 2008-