Forgiveness

She knows now,
Yet never lets on.
The briefly mentioned name
Rings like any other:
Two syllables lightly pronounced,
An iamb of decency
Fills the friendly kitchen
Where we speak through morning tea.

At another time—
In this same place—
The voices of distant wolves
Were the only company
We kept for years.
And then the irremediable silence,
So stuffed with suffering;
We thought we'd lost it all,
And begged to die
Before the next night fell.

The long trail to forgiveness
Sweeps behind the house we share
And runs along a rocky creek,
Where water gently flows
When rain collects there.
Here, we beat yesterday's clothes
Against the smooth gray stones
And slowly watch old stains
Drain into the surface below.