Ghazal

When I left there, people knew my name.
Looking back, no one ever really knew my name.

Wish me into the wolf’s mouth.
When I turned 22, I outgrew my name.

I cried to learn a new language.
With old teeth, I tried to chew my name.

In the sand of the beach where ancient bottles
Washed ashore, my daughter drew my name.

In that furniture-less house of trust
I promised you I would not eschew my name.

We stand on the sheer ice bridge of time
While frigid winds howl through my name.

O vulture, o Geier, o scavenger,
I am trying to live up to my name.

(Previously published in Barrow Street)