Leveler Poetry Journal
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At night, by marriage:


To be honorable


in return for the baby that in the night he said it died & the hard

ground but he dug the hole & no not to show me where


& no not to say how


I was a fool to touch the dirt, & with my bare hands, & to dress in his clothes

in secret, & meet him in the grain for the dress


Why did he want me to be married in the barn & the hole already dug


I went to the barn where we went

often

the barn was dark & it filled with grain

was when I went to my mother


I went to her through her eyes, which were tunnels & she saw me

though she slept


I pointed to the sealing wax up under my dress

& the night after that

her fear was a seed so I went to her again


I thought the grain was a trail to help me get back, but it was

still in the dark where I started


Finally my father makes the rope so I showed him the rope

& he gathered up the spade in both hands


& by this time the grain removed


I’d been seen & the teeth too all forced out of my mouth, but


the dress was perfect is how they knew




Lisa Ciccarello