Michael Dhyne
We pull to the side of the road
so I can take a piss. In the pouring rain,
at the edge of the field, I look back
and see Jesús in the light
of the passenger's seat mirror.
I remember what my mother said
all summer, as we cleaned out the basement.
I want to feel what it's like
to have openness.
Yet I picture her down there
holding my father's body
on an empty bed frame.
I remember when she told me I'd find love again
even though she might not. Just imagine
you're moving toward it.
My mother, whose face flooded with tears,
standing in the doorway my last night
in California, whose pale eyeshadow lit up
radiant with desperation. I want to say,
before everything happens,
I owe her everything.
Two hours from the state line
and the light, when the rain falls,
falls on the field opening before me.
from the book AFTERLIFE / University of Wisconsin Press
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This poem is dedicated to my mother, who was right about love.

Michael Dhyne on "Virginia"
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Cover image of Poetry Magazine, December 2023, in which this translation first appeared
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