The Whole of the Story

Catherine McGuire

That’s what he said, and meant,

as he narrated the split

in terms of desire, betrayal, rote and boredom.

But did he mention his parents’ cold nights,

the cigarette tips glowing in silence?

Did he describe the hippie chick, 15,

who blew through his precious pot stash

then wouldn’t put out?

And did he even know about his wife’s vision

as she stood at the peak at sunset,

feeling herself melting into rock and sky?

Did he connect up the month-long flu,

the office putdowns, the comic books

still hidden in the garage?

Even the mornings of coffee, sparrows, breeze,

barely noticed but soaking into his core,

forming part of the crystal lattice

of a life, not ending there,

but connecting to the 

whole

story.

Image: Richard Mayer, Wikimedia Commons