The World As It Was

Abstract

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• The World As It Was
• Didi Jackson (bio)

When the moon has gone I fly on alone

—W. S. Merwin

That wolf of a day, the woodlands of my new grief:you ate all the words, you fed me only worry.Now it is all I can eat for years and years to come.You wove a blanket of wool that covers me, the threadslike worms. My grief is an empty womb as pink as quartz.Everything is wrong. Even the whippoorwill callsin the afternoon rather than under the woeful moonthat now sits in a woodpile of stars. Useless.Oh how that day still howls. I hear it callfrom outside my windows so I am sure to shut them alleach and every night. It is a wonder I can still breathewith no air. Your wounds are all I think about,those cuts along your wrists, the ones even worse at your neck.I let my mind turn wooden, like a doll, imagine a woodcutterwho can remove such memories. I hope it is his axethat would do such clean work. He advises me to worshipthe blade the moon makes when it wobbles like a scythein the night sky. What if I just woke up and the worldwas as it was? What if you never turned into winter?What if the wreath was hung on the wrong door? [End Page 200]

Didi Jackson

Didi Jackson is the author of Moon Jar and the forthcoming collection My Infinity. She is an Assistant Professor of Creative Writing at Vanderbilt University.

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