Page 64 - WTP Vol. XII #2

roBert cording
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Underworld Diptych
1.
When the backhoe lowered your casket, I followed your descent as if I was Memorizing a way to the underworld.
Orpheus could play the lyre, sing, tame Wild beasts, but couldn’t prevent Himself from looking back?
But when you died, I knew why Looking back was a mistake to be Made over and over,
What was behind me always beckoning, Then refusing to be revealed.
And Orpheus?—stopped in his tracks,
He repeats the only word left to the one Who remains behind—no, no, no— Eurydice doing her slow dissolve
As Orpheus starts his journey away. When I reach for you,
You, too, are always further away in time.
2.
Though you’ve been dead six years,
I still feel like I could make my way to you.
I’d carry one of those extra-light carbon boats.
You would not recognize me,
But I’d say, Come on, I have a boat, Let’s take it out for a ride on the Lethe.
And after we’d crossed from your side Back to mine, you’d ask, Dad, what are you Doing here? I’d simply say, Let’s get going,
Home is a long way off, and your mother’s been Waiting forever. And then we’d start walking, In the natal light of a day we’d never forget.
Robert Cording has published ten collections of poems, the most recent of which are In the Unwalled City (Slant Books, 2022) and Without My Asking (CavanKerry Press), and a book on poetry, Finding the World’s Fullness (Slant Books). Recent poems have appeared in publications such as the Georgia Review, Hudson Review, The Common, Agni, New Ohio Review, The Sun and Best American Poetry, 2018. His work can also be found in the Pushcart Prize anthology, 2022 and 2024.