Early Morning, Left-Handed

Hilda Raz

Lear's five nevers over

the fool hanged, and Cordelia

and Lear dead at last, Edmund

reported and yes he was loved

by both evil sisters, so what.

I'm awake in the dawn. Cold

stone floors. The cat. His

father loved him too, I tell

my son on the phone, my

son just married. Let him

cleave to his wife. Let my

old flesh resume its boundaries,

let go. No divisions of the kingdom.

Will they write of my courage

killing the snake? We know

the dreamy answer to that one.

Honey tea swirls us sweet;

never fear the village fair,

lights stay on all night.

Tea bags bottomless coffee

cup. Ashes in the grate sweeten

the garden provender. Clay.

Ripeness is all. The fool lives on,

my left elbow's cartilage feather.