Lectionary by David Moolten

For Shira

At my mother’s funeral, a reading,
from the book of memory, and from the book of dreams,
and from the book of love, a reading,
from before I knew how, also known
as the book of secrets, and from the book of light,
its shaky beam on the lie of all I imagined,
snow spray off a sled in Prague,
how to build model cars, a reading,
from the book of insomnia
as told to my father by her sobs
through my wall, so much time too late,
and from the book of ignorance, and its sequel,
the book of fear, and from the book of life
in a chair by the sea, and from the book of psalms
for a waiting room, and from the big book of silence,
also known as the world that exists
when I leave, and from my own book
in the hope this time she’ll be proud,
and from whatever else lay around
while she lay on her sickbed,
words an opening, a way out.

David Moolten‘s most recent book, Primitive Mood won the T. S. Eliot Prize (Truman State University Press, 2009). He lives & writes in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.